The Mudblood's Daughter and the Vanishing Cabinet
by LadyLady1994
Summary: She was lost, in her own past, with no way to return. And now she has to watch those she loved suffer all over again. All because of that damned Cabinet... R&R Dramione ON HIATUS
1. Borgin and Burke's

**AN: Okay, so this is something new... Haven't even finished the third story, and I'm writing the fourth, lol :) As you guess, it's set in the Mudblood's Daughter's Universe, with one massive difference. It's also set in the Origional books. So here's the deal, it's sort of a prologue, only set between The Scorpion's Fall, and the Hallow's Horcruxes :) Enjoy**

* * *

**The Mudblood's Daughter and the Vanishing Cabinet**

"Hello? I'm looking for Mister Borgin?" Hermione called out, looking behind the dusty counter into the back room of the shop. There was a shuffling noise, and Hermione gasped when the oily, smooth-talking man appeared out of nowhere from behind her. Hermione held a hand to her chest, her heart beating wildly, before she gave him an uneasy smile. He leered at her, and Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "Are you Mister Borgin?"

"Yes, Miss, I am. And what, may I do for such a charming creature as yourself," he drawled, his eyes coasting over her form like a leech. Hermione scrunched up her nose in disgust, before handing him a letter that Draco had received by owl. As his eyes flit over the parchment, his gaunt, shadowed features paled, and he looked at Hermione, slightly terrified. "Madame Malfoy. I did not know... What can I d-do for you?" he stammered, slightly shaken. Hermione frowned, and nodded unsure of the man's reaction.

"Yes, I actually wish to see the Cabinet, if that is possible. For... sentimental value, as it seems," Hermione proposed, and the man nodded rapidly, gesturing for her to follow him into the back of the dank, dusty old shop. Apprehensive, Hermione followed the lank, thin man through to the back of the shop, careful to avoid any unidentifiable objects, and touching the dirty walls around her. Her blouse was peach, and her cloak pale blue, if she got dirt on them, it would never come out. He led her through a door, that they both had to crouch slightly to get through, and was nearly falling off it's hinges, before they came into a large, although it was full of clutter and mess.

At the centre of it all, ominous and dark, stood the cabinet, towering over her diminutive form, almost threatening. Hermione felt dwarfed compared to it, and ran her fingers over the door, fascinated and also fearful. Dark magic hummed from it, and Hermione felt the scars on her form begin to burn at it's power. Her nimble fingers grasping at the doors latch, she bit her lip, before opening it and peering into the darkness of the aged cabinet. Borgin watched her, his eyes narrowed as dark thoughts began to go through his mind.

_It would be the perfect revenge... just push her in... no one would know... Malfoy would be devastated... it would be the ultimate pay back for what he and his family did to me... _Borgin thought, his eyes growing dark. His fists clenched, and a cold scowl formed on his lips, as Hermione turned to speak to him. Her eyes widened at his expression, before he shoved her into the cabinet. Hermione screamed, her fear of enclosed spaces surfacing, and he slammed the door on her. She heard the latch lock, and called out, reaching into her robes for her wand. She began a spell, but froze when she felt a pull and tumbled backwards.

She shuddered at the sudden cold chill that overcame her, and pushed on the door, peering through the small crack she made. Broken, damaged furniture and books upon books stacked high to a seemingly endless ceiling filled her vision, and dread slowly started to fill her as she realized just where she was.

She pushed the door open further, and placed her feet on the floor of the room, her blue ankle-boot's heels clicking against the stone flooring. The hem of her cloak brushed against the ground, and she smoothed down her navy blue pencil skirt, biting her lip. She tucked her wand into the back of her skirt, and looked around, trying to find her way out the room. As if sensing her troubles, the clutter suddenly parted, allowing her a pathway to the door.

Closing her eyes, and taking a deep breath, she opened the door, and looked out. She was in Hogwarts.

* * *

"Oh Hermione, just sit still so I can apply the sleak-eazy! It won't work if you keep moving," Ginny giggled, as Hermione winced, Ginny tugging the brush through her tangled mess of hair, and applying sleak-eazy in large, healthy dollops. Hermione sighed, and forced herself to be as still as possible. Ginny looked at her in the mirror, before speaking. "Are you really going to Slughorn's party with McLaggen?"

Hermione scowled, nodding. "Well, yes, actually... I thought he would annoy Ronald the most, you see," Hermione explained, keeping her voice low, so Pavarti, who was sitting on her bed with Lavender, gossiping about her precious 'Won-Won', would not overhear. Ginny rose her eyesbrows, before shaking her head.

"Honestly, if you really wanted to make Ron mad, you should have invited Malfoy. That would have drove him absolutely crazy. Of course, it would upset Harry as well, so it would be counter-productive," Ginny sounded, and Hermione grimaced, yet didn't say anything, her hands folded in the lap of her green satin dress. She picked at the fishtail hem, gnawing on her lip until Ginny hit her across the back of her head. "Quit it, you will ruin you lipstick."

"Sorry..." Hermione mumbled, staring at her reflection. It was almost as if she wasn't looking at herself, as if it was a complete stranger looking back at her. Her hair was tamed into corkscrew, milk chocolate curls, and her make-up was perfect and unflawed. The dress fit her form perfectly, it's heart neckline revealing cleavage she didn't have, yet also still modest in a way. Ginny smirked into the mirror of the cluttered dressing table at the centre of the 6th Year Girls Dormitory.

"You're welcome," Ginny said smuggly, and Hermione flushed, nodding. "When you get back, I want all the details, understood?" Ginny joked, and Hermione rolled her eyes. She stood, smoothing down her skirt, and gave Ginny a quick hug. The long haired ginger beamed, her freckled cheek's pink. "You look amazing, do not worry about anything," Ginny assured her, and Hermione nodded, silently repeating it to herself. Ginny flipped her long, glorious orange tresses over her shoulder, and winking at Hermione. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Hermione replied, and Ginny laughed gently, before allowing Hermione to leave. Slowly, she descended the spiral staircase, looking around nervously for McLaggen, and silently hoping he would turn up, only for that to be dashed when she saw the kilted boy standing by the fireplace, boasting to whoever was listening about his 'Quidditch prowess'. In her mind, she berated herself for being such an idiot, as she pasted a smile onto her face.

"Hermione! You look brill!" Cormac stated, when he saw her, and Hermione gave him a tight smile, nodding. "Shall we go?" he asked, and Hermione had to stop herself going 'God no!' accepting his arm.

* * *

Hermione looked around, trying to spot someone she knew, and failing miserably. She was in Hogwarts? Surely it couldn't be that difficult to find someone she knew! She spun when she heard giggling, and turned to see a flash of dark brown hair as the person turned a corner, black robes swishing behind them. She frowned, running her hands through her hair in exasperation.

Footsteps suddenly echoed in the hallway, and she turned, her eyes hopefull, praying it was Jay or Theodore. Her eyes widened horifically when she saw just who it was. Walking towards her, encased in an emerald green dress, on Cormac McLaggen's arm, was her sixteen year old self.


	2. Slughorn's Party

**AN: Okay, so this is something new... Haven't even finished the third story, and I'm writing the fourth, lol :) As you guess, it's set in the Mudblood's Daughter's Universe, with one massive difference. It's also set in the Origional books. So here's the deal, it's sort of a prologue, only set between The Scorpion's Fall, and the Hallow's Horcruxes :) Enjoy**

* * *

**The Mudblood's Daughter and the Vanishing Cabinet**

Hermione Granger looked at the woman as she passed, a spark of recognition igniting, and then dimming as she looked at her. She knew the woman, she was sure of it, she just didn't know where from. Brushing it off for something she could think about later, she focused on her conversation with Cormac, only to find his was still talking about his quidditch skills. She resisted the urge to smack him, wringing her fingers around the handle of the green bag that held her wand, and gave him a polite, but strained smile. It was only then she noticed what they were standing under. Her eyes widened, and Cormac looked up as well, before deliberate smirk fell onto his lips.

"Well, well, Hermione... I bet you planned this, didn't you," he chuckled, and Hermione couldn't hid the reluctance and horror on her face. Cormac took no notice off it, putting an arm loosely around her waist. "Come on then, let's get at it, Granger," he said, puckering his lips and lowering his face to hers. Hermione swallowed a screech, and tucked down from under his arm, scampering away, to hide. She pushed between two members of the Weird Sisters band, and stopped only when she heard Harry's voice calling her name insistently. She gave a heavy sigh of relief, whanting to hig her bestfriend.

"Oh Harry! There you are, thank goodness! Hi Luna!" she rambled, looking around nervously for any sign of Cormac. Her appearance must have shown her distress, because Harry unhelpfully blurted out 'What happened to you?', rather rudely. Hermione glared at him slightly, before responding in a hurried whisper. "I've just escaped- I mean, just left Cormac," she explained, and Harry rose his eyebrows, a questioning look still on his face. "Under the mistletoe." SHe knew what was coming next. The chastising look on Harry's face said it all.

"Serves you right for coming with him," Harry said to here, his tone severe, and Hermione wanted to smack him upside the head, before wondering where the violent impulses she had where coming from. She responded with the same explanation she had given Ginny, only leaving out what Ginny had said about Malfoy. Harry got a horrified expression on his face. "You considered _Smith_?"

"Yes, I did, and I'm starting to wish I'd chosen him, McLaggen makes _Grawp_ look like a gentlemen. Let's go this way, we'll be able to see him coming, he's so tall..." Hermione trailed off, dragging Harry and an almost suspiciously quiet Luna towards the other side of the lavishly decorated room. She picked up a glass of mead and drank it fully, before she noticed who they had come to stand next to. Professor Trelawney reeked of cooking sherry, so much that Hermione took a small step back from her. The drunk professor struck up a conversation with Luna, unable to focus clearly, and Hermione gave a small sigh of relief that she didn't have to talk to the woman she didn't despise, but certainly couldn't stand.

"Let's get something straight. Are you planning to tell Ron that you interfered at Keeper try-outs?" Harry asked after getting closer to her, and Hermione felt offence and a pang of sadness that Harry could even think she would stoop so low. She told him so as well, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. Harry gave her a shrewd look, before opening his mouth. "Hermione, if you can ask out McLaggen-"

Hermione cut him off, dignity laced in her nearly angry tone, "That is different, Harry Potter. I have no plans to tell Ron anything that may or may not have happened at Keeper try-outs." Hermione was finding it rather difficult to keep her temper under control and when Harry mentioned Quidditch, she could feel herself loosing it. Her voice was shrill when she yelled at him. "Quidditch! Is that all you boys care about? Cormac hasn't asked me one single question about myself, no, I've been treated to A Hundred Great Saves Made by Cormac McLaggen _NON-STOP_, ever since - on no! Here he comes!"

She managed to get away fast enough that Harry had thought she had disapparated. She stumbled through the crowd, pushing past a group of gigglign girls, and hidign behind a sheer, peach curtain, her chest heaving, head hitting the wall. She closed her eyes, huffing, breaths short and rapid. She allowed herself a few moments of peace and quiet, to try and calm her frazzled nerves, before she peeked out the curtain, and tried to get to the doors of the room, hoping to leave. She skulked next to the wall, crouched low and hoping to leave unnoticed, when she felt a hand grab her arm.

She looked up to see Cormac frowning down at her. "Where are you going? I thought we were on a date?" Cormac asked, and she felt her heart drop in her chest, as she stammered her words, trying to give a valid excuse as to why she was sneaking out of the party. "You really are a little tease, aren't you? No wonder Weasley moved onto Lavender. He wasn't getting any from you," Cormac sneered, and Hermione blinked, gaping t his insensitivity. She yanked her arm from his grip, as he continued on at her only to stop when he saw Filch dragging Malfoy in by the ear.

Hermione took his distraction as a moment to get away from him, blinking back tears and sobs that threatened to spill at his harsh, cruel words. she tried to remind herself that it was just McLaggen, that he didn't know what he was talking about, when her eyes met Malfoy's across the room. He looked tired, angry also slightly fearful. His eyes had shadows under them, and his face was gaunt, paler than usual. She knew that look, it was the look Harry often got. When the weight of the world seemed to be on his shoulders, and he was carrying it alone. she ducked her head, so he couldn't see the pity in her eyes, and continued to creep out of the room, pushing past the party-goers, her eyes brimming with tears.

She covered her mouth with one hand, as she fled the hallway, desperate to get to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom before she completely broke down.

* * *

Hermione Malfoy had never been more at a loss in her life. For at least half an hour, she had leaned against the wall of the hallway she seemed unable to leave, before she had somehow managed to start moving again, heading for somewhere she was sure would hold the answers she needed for the thousands of question's racing through her mind. The only comfort, she could grasp from this at all, was that she was going to see Dumbledore again. In her own time, she could talk to his portrait, but it wasn't the same as talking to the man she had once admired so greatly, face-to-face. That was the only possible good thing she could gather from this.

She had no way of knowing if her children were okay. Scorpius was only ten, he was going to Hogwarts next year. This was the last year she had with him. Abraxus was four. He wasn't used to not being with an adult, and Narca-Jane was pregnant with her second grand-child. She didn't want to miss her giving birth. She came to a steady halt in front of the Gargoyle that would take her up to Dumbledore's office. Almost habitually, she dusted down her clothes, making sure she was presentable and fluffing her hair, before realising what she was doing. As well as this, it also occurred to her that she had no idea at all of what the password was, and whether Dumbledore was even in his office. She couldn't stop the small bubble of frustration that burst within her, and cursing, she spun and kicked the stone wall with the toe of her shoe.

She froze, her lip trembling, before she cried out in agony as her foot thoroughly protested what she had done, pulsing painfully. She kicked of her shoe and grasped her toes, hopping on one heeled foot, which caused her to fall backwards onto her bottom, with a raw _thud_. Her ankle now throbbed as well, and she knew it was twisted, as she tried to force the sling-back heels off her foot before her ankle swelled too much. Sighing heavily, she squeezed her eyes shut, counting to ten before refocusing.

Okay, so she wasn't going to get help from Dumbledore any time soon, so who would be the next best person to seek out? A smile crept onto her lips. Minerva McGonnagle. Looking around for something to grab hold off, she realised the only thing was the Gargoyle itself, so she latched onto it's wing, and pulled herself to her feet. She gasped in pain as she put too much weight on her ankle, and pulled her wand out her sleeve. Pointing it at her ankle, she mumbled a quick healing spell, and put her weight on it again, relieved when the pain diminished.

Looking at her shoes, which lay on the floor, she scowled, before striding down the hall, the route to Minerva's office clear in her mind even after twenty-four years.

* * *

Draco Malfoy knew there was something not right, the moment he entered the Cottage to complete silence. Abraxus was not there, and neither was Scorpius. Which meant Hermione hadn't picked them up from Ron and Pansy's. "Hermione?" he called out, and he received no reply. Scowling, he walked through the house, to the kitchen, only to find more darkness and an empty kitchen. For the first time in a long time, he felt himself start to worry. Hermione was always home before he was. It was the way it was in their home.

He sat down at the kitchen table, thinking hard. She hadn't sent him an owl, telling him she would be late, and he knew that she was trying to get as much time in as she could with Scorpius before he went to Hogwarts. Draco scowled at where his thoughts had gone to. Scorpius was going to be just like him, he could already see it. Maybe not so free with the term 'Mudblood', but like Draco none the less. Hermione didn't see it. She couldn't see it, she was blind to her son's flaws. Scorpius had been destined to be a Slytherin, whatever he was like at home, that was who he would be.

Realizing he was getting distracted again, he stood and walked into the living room, where the house phone was kept. The muggle object he had seen Hermione use so many times stared back at him, mocking his incapability to use muggle equipment. Scowling, he picked up the Address book Hermione always left beside the phone, and flicked through it until he got to 'P'. He scanned down the list until he got to _Potter_, and picked up the phone. He looked at the numbers on the machine, and then at the ones in the phone book, before pressing the numbers in the order they were in the book.

It was time to find his wife.

* * *

Hermione Granger stared up at the ceiling of the classroom she had somehow ended up in, swallowing, every part of her body stiff and sore. Her head turned to the sleeping figure beside her, and she felt her eyes prick with tears again, as she admonished her own stupidity. He looked so peaceful, almost serene. She couldn't blame him, she just couldn't. But she couldn't let him remember either. They were at war. His and hers. Her friends would never accept it, they would hunt him down and beat the life out of him for even thinking off touching her.

She reached out and stroked his pale cheek, biting her lip at it's softness, before she sat up and shuffled around, looking for the green bag that had her wand in it. She pulled it out her bag, and clutching it to her chest, she looked at Draco's slumbering form, an apologetic look on her face. "I'm so sorry..." she whispered, before pointing the wand at his temple. "Obliviate," she cast the spell, and the white glow swept over his head. She waited with bated breath, to make sure he didn't wake, and when the light had subsided, and he was still sleeping soundly, she collected her ruined clothes, pulling them on quickly, and sneaked from the classroom, heart hammering.

She rushed down the corridor, trying to be as quiet as possible and hiding whenever she thought she heard someone approaching. It wasn't too early yet, only about four in the morning, so she shouldn't run into anyone, other than the House Elves, and maybe some of the really early bird teachers. When she finally reached Gryffindor Tower, she quietly gave the Fat Lady the password and skulked into the Common Room. She was shocked to see Harry sitting up, in front of a dwindling fire an all too pensive look on his face. Biting her lip, debating whether or not to go over, her feelings for her friend won over, and she went over to him, sitting silently beside him.

He looked at her, before his eyes widened. "What happened to you?" he asked, worried, and Hermione shrugged, before responding 'I don't wish to talk about it'. Harry stared at her, before releasign a heavy sigh, and looking back at the simmering ashes. Hermione rest her head on his shoulder. "I miss him," Harry said. Hermione swallowed, and sniffed, knowing he was talking about Sirius.

"I miss him as well."


	3. A Very Frosty Christmas

**AN: Please Read and Review, I know that the Mudblood's daughter saga must seem never ending, and you just want it all to be over by now, but it's still nice to hear your opinions...**

* * *

**The Mudblood's Daughter and the Vanishing Cabinet**

Hermione could feel her mother's eyes on her, as she picked at her food, feeling less and less hungry under her gaze. Finally, she just put her fork down, and looked into the hazel eyes of her mother. There was a look of worry on Jean Granger's face, and also suspicion. "Is something the matter, mother?" Hermione asked, unable to hide the edge in her voice, and Jean gently placed her knife and fork on either side of her food-laden placed, watching Hermione cautiously.

"No dear, of course not. You just... look different, that is all," Jean replied. This type of conversation was typical of the Granger's now. After Hermione had met Charissa in Hermione fourth year, and Hermione had discovered what she had forgotten, her relationship with her mother, more than her father, had become more strained. Hermione frowned, but nodded. Jean bit her lip, before she spoke. "Have you heard from Charissa recently?" Jean queried.

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed, wonderingwhy her mother was asking about her niece. "Yes... I got a letter from her the other night. Grandfather passed away early yesterday morning, Grandmother is very upset," Hermione whispered the last part. She watched her mother for a reaction, but the woman barely flinched, picking up her knife and fork and keepingher eyes trained on her plate. John Granger watched her as well. The man's dark brown hair was receding, and peppered with gray. He was slightly rounded, yet his eyes were gentle as he looked at his wife, but she just stayed stoic. Hermione sighed, and stood. "Excuse me. I am going to bed, I feel awfully tired," she said.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," John stated, and Hermione smiled, pressinga soft kiss onto his stubbly, red cheek, and swayingfrom the dining room of her small suburban home. The creme walls provided no comfort for her, how shocked she was at her mothers lack of reaction about Abbrox's death.

Normally she felt at home within the confines of her home, the pictures of smiling people lining the walls, the warmth that always seemed to radiate welcoming and gentle. Now she felt stifled by the heat, the smiling pictures felt fake, and unnatural with their eerily still forms, not moving like the ones she normally saw at Hogwarts. She didn't feel safe, she felt trapped, trapped in the lie spun by her mother when she was a child.

She closed her bedroom door restingthe back of her head against the white painted wood, and looking around her room. The plain walls reflected herself, the old, patchwork quilt on the bed made by her Grannie on her dad's side. Her two bookshelves on either side of the window, and the shelves up the wall her door was on were piled high with books, and on the wall above her bed where three pictures, one of the Weasley's, one of the Golden Trio and one of her family.

Her room was basic, with only her wardrobe, bedside table and chest of drawers as furniture other than her bed and bookshelves. Her parents had never believed in excess, something that Hermione surmised was part of Jean's insistencethat she doesn't have anything to do with money, or the Hallow's family at all. Exhausted, she stripped down from her Christmas dress, which was a simple red number, and pulled on her bunny pyjamas. She clambered under her covers, and the minute her head hit the pillow, she fell into an uneven slumber.

* * *

Hermia. That was her identity, that was what McGonnagle had decided. Hermia King. A visiting professor from Beauxbaxton's sent to observe the Transfiguration classes. She had to stay out of the way as much as possible, to avoid changing anything that had happened in the past. The problem was there was so much she would change if she had the chance, and she actually for once, did. The only problem is, she didn't know how it would affect the future. Her main wish though, was to prevent Dumbledore's death.

But that couldn't happen. Releasing an angry groan, she fisted her hair, head against the feather filled pillow tiredly. Her thoughts were too haywire for her too sleep, and all she could think of was that she could fix everything, yet also ruin it. If she tried to change it, then what would happen to Narca-Jane? Scorpius and Abraxus? Her marriage? There was too much too risk.

Huffing, she sat up, swingingher legs around the side of the bed and placing her feet in the slippers provided by McGonnagle. Her nightgown was plain, floor-length and white, with a high lace necklineand short sleeves. The sort of nightgown her Grannie used to wear. Grabbing the dressing gown, a fuzzy pink thing that reminded her of Molly Weasley, that was slightly too large, she pulled it over her shoulder and did up the sash. Creeping over to the door, she opened it slowly, before emerging fully and treading down the corridor, her wand clasped in her hand.

She turned right, went down two flights of the Grand Staircase, not panicking when they started to move, and emerged at the first floor Arithmacyclassrooms. Hermia turned, frowning and went down the next flight, coming out on the ground floor and near the staff room. A cold chill whipped through her spine, and she shuddered. A sudden slimy drawl caused her to jump and spin on her heel. "I do not believe you are supposed to be here, Professor King, if that is, in fact, your name," the deep, unmistakable voice of Severus Snape said, and Hermia swallowed, looking at him.

"Professor Snape! I'm sorry, I was just hungry, and I..." Hermia trailed off, realising that she didn't have to explain herself to Snape any more, even if she was in 1996, she wasn't the same age. "Actually, I was wondering if you could direct me in the direction of the kitchens, Professor. I am afraid that I am going to get dreadfully lost, and that would be terrible."

Snape staredher suspiciously with beady, black eyes down his hooked nose, before he gestured down the corridor. "Take the door to the right of the main staircase in the Entrance Hall. Continue down the corridor to the portrait of fruit and tickle the pear. It will become a handle. The Elves will serve you," he informed her, and Hermia beamed at him courteously, before turning in the Entrance Hall's direction. She stopped, and looked back at him.

"Would you care to join me, Professor Snape?" she offered, and he rose a slimy eyebrow. "I mean, you must be hungry, if you are up as well, correct?" she asked, challenging his motives. Snape nearly glowered at her, before he nodded his acquiesce. Hermia grinned, as he began to stalk toward the Entrance hall, slow enough to allow her to follow.

"Professor Snape, if you do not mind me prying, but what is your opinion of Professor Dumbledore? I have heard he is a great, kind man, and I have yet to meet him," Hermia pried, looking at him slyly. If there was anythign she had got from Draco over the last few years of marriage, it was how to lie, and hide your true motives. She had always wondered about Snape, and his alliegence, and even more why he had such an alliegence to Dumbledore. If Harry had ever found out, he hadn't shared it once.

"Dumbledore is... he is a good wizard," Snape replied, his tone clipped and Hermia regarded him silently, before nodding and looking away.

"Yes, I am sure he is," she stated.

* * *

Charissa Hallows sat at her Grandmother's bedside, the frail, aged woman trembling in her four-poster mahogany bed. Cassadria had once been a woman of great power and influence, yet here she lay, fallen and weak, like a withered flower cut down before it's time. The lady croaked slightly, and Charissa reached to the bedside table, and poured a silver goblet full of water. "Would you like some water, Grandmother?" she asked, careful to keep her voice gentle, and quiet. The woman rose a han wearily, shaking it, and Charissa sighed.

After setting the glass back down, she stood, her dressing gowns hem brushing against the dark-wood floor under her feet. The entire room was dar, only dimnly lit by a single candle on the bedside table. It's curtains, a thick, rich red satin were drawn heavily, as well as the curtains along three sides of the bed. All the furniture was dark, mahogany and powerful, the fabrics thick red satin that gave the room an even darker, more solemn atmosphere.

At the centre of it all was Cassadria, looking like a lone angel among the darkness, her grey hair fanned around her head, her skin a sickly, mottled grey and her eyes blindly searching through the darkness for the blurry figure of her granddaughter. Charissa prodded over to the window, pushing open the curtain a tad and peering out into the night.

"Cass-andra? Are... y-you... th-ere?" Cassadria whimpered, her voice breaking often. Charissa closed her eyes, clenching her fists and taking a deep breath, before pasting a smile on her face, and going back to her seat beside her grand-mother's bed. She clasped Cassadria's hand in her own, anger and sadness peircing her heart.

"Mother," Charissa said, stiffly. Charissa was used to this now, after the Cancer that had gripped her grandmother had mastasized to her brain, she had deteriorated mentally, rapidly. It had been really difficult, especially with how ill her grandfather was as well, before he passed the night before. He had died from Dragon Pox, horrifically. So many people she loved were gone now, her mother and father, her sister and brother, her grandfather. How long was it until she lost her grandmother as well?

"I... I am... tired... dear... Leave me... be..." Cassadria croaked, and Charissa sighed heavily, before she replied 'Goodnight' and pressed a kiss onto the wrinkled woman's forehead. She turned, her nightcoat and nightgown swishing around her ankles, before she lifted the candle, striding from the room, and down the never ending corridors that haunted the Hallow's mansion.

It never felt safe, not after she had found her parents bodies in her mothers living room. She never went near the East Wing now, eating in the first Reception Room on the West Wing instead. There were twenty seven bedrooms in the Hallows Mansion, and she tried to sleep as far away from the room they had slept in as possible.

"Charissa! There you are!" a snap caused her to jump, and she spun, her heart hammering in her chest as she saw Narcissa Malfoy treading the wooden floors towards her. The woman was a far cry from the one she had once called her aunt. Her eyes were flitting around, and she huddled into herself, her rich green robes heavy on her slender frame, her beauty darkened by worry and fatigue. Charissa let her head fall momentarily, before lifting her head and gazing at her frantic looking Aunt.

"What is it, Narcissa?" she breathed weakly, not even caring how Narcissa had gained access to the Mansion. Narcissa looked at her apprehensivily, before she spoke.

"I need your help."


	4. A Sluggish Memory

**AN: Please Read and Review, I know that the Mudblood's daughter saga must seem never ending, and you just want it all to be over by now, but it's still nice to hear your opinions...**

* * *

**The Mudblood's Daughter and the Vanishing Cabinet**

Hermione rushed towards Harry, Ron and Ginny, pointedly ignoring Ron and calling out Harry and Ginny's names happily. She was still cold from having just run from Hagrid's, and knew her face was dreadfully pink. She quickly explained that she had got back a couple of hours ago, and that she had been visiting Hagrid and Buckbeak, before asking them how their Christmas was. When Ron started to reply to her question, she cut him off, acting completely ignorant to his existence. "I've got something for you, Harry. Oh, hang on - password. Abstinence."

The Fat Lady mumbled something weakly, and swung open to let them in. Hermione had to prevent a wince, as every time she was confronted with the red and gold hangings of the Gryffindor Common Room she felt guilty for her betrayal with Malfoy. Harry asked what was wrong with the Fat Lady, and Hermione couldn't hide the eye roll that she gave as she explained just what the Fat Lady and her friend Violet had done during the Christmas Holidays. "...drank their way through all the wine in that picture of drunk monks down by the Charms corridor. Anyway...

She blew a stray cur from her mane of hair out her eyes as she dug through her pocket, before handing Harry the letter with Dumbledore's almost illegible scrawl on it. She stopped listening when Harry started talking, looking instead at Ginny who was eyeing her suspiciously. Ginny hadn't been able to have a proper conversation with Hermione since the Slug Club Christmas Party, and she had been unable to corner her afterwards because Hermione had disappeared to her parent's home for Christmas. Hermione knew that at some point in the very near future, she was going to get cornered by the red-head.

There was a sudden shriek of 'Won-Won' before Lavender Brown suddenly appeared, latching on to Ron with a vice-like grip. Snickering could be heard all around, making Ron's ears started to turn pink, and Hermione laughed, gesturing to a nearby empty table. "There's a table over here... coming Ginny?" she asked, and Ginny, who was watching Ron and Lavender with a frightfully disgusted look shook her head, responding that she was going to meet Dean, her tone miserable as she did so. Hermione gave her a comforting look, squeezing her hand softly, before Harry led her to the spare table, sitting her down and then sitting opposite her.

They went through the normal motions of 'how was your Christmas' and Harry trying to convince her to talk to Ron again, before he explained what he had overheard after Slughorn's party. Hermione could feel her stomach start to twist, the familiar feeling of guilt tormenting her mind as Harry told her exactly what he heard. Her guilt was what made her try and defend Snape, not Draco, because that would have just made Harry suspicious. She had to admit it, when Harry said it was proof Malfoy was up to something. However she knew she could defend him when Harry bought up Voldemort.

"Hmm... did either of them actually mention Voldemort's name?" she asked slyly, her eyes flicking away from him and staring across the room, deep in thought. She didn't look at Harry, not noticing the frown as he tried to remember. When he argued that Snape had said 'Your master' and there was no one else it could be, she bit her lip nervously, and responded it could be his father. Her chest ached, and she rubbed it slightly, to ease the pain. "How's Lupin?"

Her attempt to change the conversation topic failed when Harry bought up Fenrir Greyback, and like the know-it-all she was proud to be, she reminded him of just how they knew who Fenrir Greyback was. After another debate against Draco's innocence, Harry declared that she as going to be proved wrong just like the Ministry, and finally told her about visit from Rufus Scrimgeour. Hermione bristled, and instantly began admonishing the Ministry in disbelief, Harry nodding in agreement.

"You know, you never told me what happened to you after the Party," Harry said, after a bit, and Hermione tensed, her eyes leaving his face and going to the fireplace, where Ginny was sitting alone staring into the ember flames. "Hermione, if it was something bad, I have to know. You're my friend, I was worried about you," Harry cajoled her, appealing to her emotions, and her sense of friendship. Hermione scowled at him, before she released a heavy breath.

"Harry... I know that you are worried, but please give me time. I still have some thoughts that I need to process, and until I have, I can not share them with you," Hermione said, and Harry sighed, before nodding.

* * *

Hermia (she grimaced, thinking of that name. Not that there was anything wrong with it, she just HATED it) had to remind herself how to breath, when she looked at the aged, warm form of Albus Dumbledore. Tears pricked her eyes, and before she could stop herself, she had wrapped her arms around the man, hugging him tightly.

Dumbledore rose an eyebrow, but patted her back gently with his good hand. He was tall, his hair and beard silvery and white. His robes were long and purple, and he wore a rainbow coloured cloak. His boots were buckled and heeled, like always and his eyes shone softly as he looked down at the top of Hermia's head. When Hermia finally stepped away, she wiped her eyes and apologized.

"It is quite alright, my dear, you seem to be rather out of sorts," Dumbledore asked, his larger, frailer hand clasping Hermia's, as he guided her to his desk and the chair opposite it, setting her down in it. Hermia still couldn't process that Dumbledore, actually alive, was standing in front of her, smiling kindly at her.

"I..." she couldn't form any words, she was just completely amazed and seriously overwhelmed. He chuckled, before sitting in his chair, looking every bit the great Wizard he was.

"Minerva has informed me of your situation, Mrs Malfoy," Dumbledore said, looking at her from over his half-moon spectacles. Hermia released a sudden heavy breath, thanking the lord that Dumbledore knew that she wasn't supposed to be here. He had to be able to get her home, he just had to. "However, Mrs Malfoy, as smart as I am, I have no way of rectifying the situation."

"But, Professor! I have to get home, my son... My husband, he will be going out of his mind!" Hermia exclaimed, at a loss of what to do. Dumbledore's aged face immediately adopted a concerned, comforting expression. It was the one her father used to give her when she was upset. "I miss my family, my friends! I know what is going to happen, yet I can do nothing about it, because it could change everything!"

"I am glad you understand that, Mrs Malfoy. Unfortunately, I have not got the time to help you find your way back home, but, you are welcome to use any of the schools resources in you search," Dumbledore assured her. "However, should you need any advice on any other matters, or simply a kind ear to talk to, Mrs Malfoy, I am always here to offer a shoulder for you to lean on."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermia said slowly, yet she made no move to leave his office, still staring at him. Dumbledore cocked an eyebrow, before saying 'Mrs Malfoy?' imploringly. Hermia bit her lip, but couldn't help herself from blurting out what she was trying to stop herself saying. "Don't trust Snape!" Her eyes widened,and she covered her mouth. Dumbledore's lips thinned slightly, and he shook his head, sighing deeply. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. "I am so sorry, Professor... and I know I should speak of what is to come, but you can not trust him. I beg off you, don't."

"Mrs Malfoy... Hermione... I trust Severus with my life. He has never given me reason not to. I insist that any accuasion you feel to make of him, you think heavily on it, and understand my reasoning for it," Dumbledore placated her. Hermia bristled, and stood gallantly. Her temper may not have been as epic as Ginny Potter's, or as sharp as Draco's, but when she was mad she was a fore to be reckoned with. Her eyes flashed, and she put her hands on her hip. As always, when she got frustrated, her hair started to bush out and thicken.

"I am not a child, Albus Dumbledore. I am forty years old. I am in no possible way a child. I have spent the last twenty-three years thinking of your reasons for trusting that... snake! Yet for the life of me, I cannot figure out why you would do such an absurd thing! Harry always tells me that I should be more understanding of Snape's plight, yet I refuse to believe that someone like he was good. Someone who could kill you could never possibly be good!" she ranted, and Dumbledore inhaled gently, before standing, and walking around his desk to her. Even as an adult, he still towered over her. He placed his hand on her shoulder, his withered hand down at his side.

"Mrs Malfoy... please be calm," he chided gently, the twinkle in his eyes having faded a slight."I am under no impression that you are a child, Hermione. In fact I am proud to see the person you have become. Yet I implore you please, no matter what you feel you should do, or change, you will allow events to run their course. It is for the greater good that you allow things to happen the way they are meant to."

"I have no choice in the matter, Professor. If I change anything, my existence, my family, could be affected, if I make a mistake, I could lose everything in my own time, so please, don't give a speech about changing things, when I already know it is impossible," Hermia said, dejectadly and her eyes left his face, and went to the floor. Dumbledore nodded, understanding the womans plight. "Excuse me, Professor... I must go and get some sleep, I am tired."

Even though he could sense the lie behind Hermia's words, he allowed her to leave, bidding her good night. She gave him a fleeting smile, before walking from his office, her white nightgown and fuzzy pink dressing gown swishing around her as she did so. She made it down the corridor from the Gargoyle, and around the corner, when she very nearly ran into Draco Malfoy.

Looking at him was almost painful. His face was pale, pointed and unscarred. Beautiful, even with the fear that seemed to prevail in his silver eyes. It was odd to see him without the scars, and looking so young. The scars were a sign of who he was in her time. He wasn't there yet. He eyed her. "Who are you?" he sneered.

Hermia swallowed and narrowed her eyes on him. "I am Professor King, and who are you?" Hermia asked, trying to be sharp. Draco's expression was one of a grimace, and with a tone of self-importance, he replied 'Draco Malfoy'. Hermia eyed him. "And should you not be in bed? It is after hours, Mister Malfoy."

"I was talking to Professor Snape. You can ask him if you want," Draco sniped, and Hermia gave him a small smile. Draco tensed, and Hermia let the smile fall, to take a more somber expression.

"It's okay, Mister Malfoy, I trust your word," Hermia said gently. Draco furrowed his eyebrows. "However, I must insist you go straight to your dorm. You never know what may lurk in the corridors at night, or the pranks Peeves is waiting to unleash upon unsuspecting students. I shall walk you, if you wish?"

"I know the way to my own House Dormitery, Professor," Draco said coldly. Hermia nodded, saying 'Of course'. Hermia watched him, as he turned to leave and stride away. However, he paused, and looked back at her before sighing deeply. Hermia gave him a comforting smile, which he had to fight not to return. "Would you like to walk with me, Professor?"

"I would be delighted, Mr Malfoy," Hermia whispered, and she walked by his side in the direction of the Slytherin Dormitery, in complete silence.


	5. Introduction's and Actions

**AN: Please Read and Review, I know that the Mudblood's daughter saga must seem never ending, and you just want it all to be over by now, but it's still nice to hear your opinions...**

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**The Mudblood's Daughter and the Vanishing Cabinet**

"Settle down, class, settle down. Now, for the remainder of the school year, we will have a guest within our class from Beauxbatons. She will be observing this class, and possibly others, as well as she has offered tutition to students, should they need it. Professor King, if you would please," Professor McGonnagle gestured to Hermia, who sat by the door to the classroom. She sat on a stool, in soft blue robes, with gold embroidery along the hem and up the skirts. The entire class turned to look at her, the gazes of thirty six students on her. Eighteen Slytherins and eighteen Gryffindors.

Hermia stood, tucking a loose strand of hair from her French Plait behind her ear, and smiling at the class. Draco looked at her, momentarily, before he looked back at his work. Hermione's eyes watched her, wide, as she walked round the four rows of three desks, each desk seating two-students. Hermione swore she knew this women. She had to, it was almost insane how much she recognised the woman.

"Hello class. I am Hermia King. Please feel free to approach me with any question you wish to ask," Hermia instructed, trying to be welcoming. The class just looked at her. After a few moments of silence, a hand went up. Neville Longbottom looked at her nervously. She sofetened her gaze as she looked at him, knowing first-hand how nervous he could be. "Yes, Mister Longbottom?"

"Er... why don't you sound French? I mean... if you are from Beauxbatons?" Neville asked, and Hermia blinked, not having expected that question. She stammered.

"Well... Mister Longbottom... I am originally from Britain," Hermia said, and Neville flushed, when he heard Draco laugh darkly. Hermia looked at him, and narrowed her eyes. Draco's lips turned thin and he looked back at his desk with shadowed eyes. "Is there anymore questions?" she questioned, her eyes going to Hermione for a breif second. When no one spoke, she nodded silently. "Very well. Please continue, Professor McGonnagle."

McGonnagle smiled tersly, and isntructed the class to turn to page 105 of their Guide to Advanced Transfiguration, and Hermia took her seat again, admist the quiet turning of pages, and the almost melodic Scottish tune of Minerva McGonnagle's voice.

At twelve fifteen, the lesson ended, and the class made to leave, heading for Charms. Hermia smiled at the students as they passed, yet couldn't stop herself from grabbing hold of Hermione's arm, preventing her from leaving. McGonnagle stood at her desk, tense and watching precariously. Hermione's eyes widened.

"Miss Granger... I just... I just wanted to tell you should you need anything, please, do not hesitate to speak to me. No matter what it is," Hermia told her, and Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, confused, yet nodded anyway. Hermia swallowed, then gave her a bright look, and allowing her to leave. Hermia sighed deeply, before she bid her goodbyes to Professor McGonnagle and began to head towards the seventh floor in search of the Room of Requirement.

"Professor King," she heard a familiar drawl, and paused in her stride to see Draco, dressed in a black turtleneck under a black blazer with black slacks, striding to her. She clasped her hands in front of her, looking at Draco gently.

"Mister Malfoy, do you not have Charms?" she asked, raising her eyebrows, and Draco shrugged carelessly, mumbling something under his breath which Hermia failed to catch. She rolled her eyes. "Well would you care to accompany me, Mister Malfoy?"

"Where?" he asked bluntly, and Hermia laughed, before replying 'The Room of Requirement'. The look of shock on Draco's face was almost hilareous, before suspicion covered his features. "How do you know about the Room of Requirement. You have only been here two weeks," Draco demanded, and Hermia tensed, her mouth pursing as she realised how stupid that was of her.

"I... well... I... What business is it of yours? I am not asking you to pry, Mister Malfoy, merely asking you to accompany me there. There is something I am having great difficulty finding and I believe it will be in the Room of Requirement," Hermia argued, acting defensive, and Draco asked 'What'. "A Vanishing Cabinet."

Draco seemed to pale even more than he already was, looking partly like a ghost as he stared at Hermia. The expression of horror was almost as equal as the Hermia had given Malfoy when he had turned up at her home with scars and a Werewolf bite. "Why... why are you looking for a Vanishing Cabinet?"

"I can't explain, I just need to see if it is there, it is important. However you do not have to come with me, if you don't want to, I am more than happy to go alone," she assured him, and Draco shook his head.

"No, I'll come," he said, his tone low, and Hermia beamed, saying 'Good' cheerfully.

* * *

Hermione felt sick. Not only did she feel sick, but she felt panicked. Her period? She had missed it. And her periods were as regular as clockwork. Every month on the Twenty-fifth to the thirtieth. It was the eigth of January. She had missed a period. It had been two weeks and four days since she had slept with Draco. Hermione shuddered and grimaced. She was not proud of her actions. Not at all, but she had been miserable, and then had panicked.

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts and ran her hand through her mane of hair. It felt as if the day would never end. She had Astronomy as 8:30, until 10:00pm, and she had barely been able to eat her dinner. The food, as amazing as it was, turned her stomach. Her eyes had strayed to the Slytherin table, and she had saw that Draco wasn't there. Again. He never went to dinner anymore. She was also finding it increasingly difficult to stay even tempered, with Harry's brooding, Ron's annoying little girlfriend and the fact she could find ABSOLUTELY nothing on Horcruxes.

She just wanted to sleep.

* * *

Ginny Potter stared at Draco, who was sitting at their kitchen table, head in his hands. She had never seen him look so defeated in the entire time she had known him. It had been nearly three weeks since they had lost Hermione. And they had honestly know idea how to find her, any clue as to where she was or who would even take her to begin with.

Scorpius and Abraxus had stayed with Harry and Ginny while Draco had searched for her, and came up with nothing. Scorpius had worried. Abraxus had followed James around with avid fascination. Harry looked at Draco, Blaise sitting next to him with a hand on Draco's shoulder and Ron opposite Blaise next to Harry.

It was odd, the friendship the four men had. Ginny knew where it came from for Blaise. The three men had risked their lives to save him, and rescue him. He owed them his life, and even if the other three (maybe not Draco so much) never asked him for anything, he was ready to give them everything because of it.

Ron acted as if he still hated Draco and Blaise, yet it all seemed to be in good humour. They fought for the hell of it. Any animosity they seemed to carry towards one another seemed fake. Ron and Draco fought, would verbally abuse each other, yet no one else was allowed to insult them. Draco was family now.

Harry was generally forgiving of most things, apart from murder. He had warmed to Draco, and the two were actually quite close. It turned out they had some stuff in common. They were both rich, had war torn families and had grown up constantly pressured by the beliefs of those around them. They both had a fierce loyalty to their causes and their family, so naturally, when that family became each other, they became feircly loyal to each other.

Yet Ginny also knew the main reason why they were so close now. When they had been on their rescue mission, they had gotten captured. They had been tortured together, and all nearly lost their minds. Then, Cissady had locked them in a cage on the full moon, and took great glee in watching Draco tear their bodies to shreds before he had bit the other three. Once she had seen them bitten, she had had Draco tied, before pulling them out. They had had their wands, so they could defend themselves.

Cissady didn't want Draco to miss out on the pain.

That was why they always spent so much time together. They were a pack. And packs stuck together more than even families. Ginny shook her head, and looked over to the door of the kitchen, where James stood, frowning. The eighteen year old boy had Abraxus clinging to neck, the four year old confused.

He didn't really understand where his mommy was. He just knew she was away. She was always away. She worked at the big kid school. He always got to go and stay with her there. The big kids were fun. But his daddy never seemed this upset when she went away then, so it must be bad that she is gone now.

* * *

Hermia placed a palm on the dark wood of the Vanishing Cabinet, swallowing heavily. Draco stood quietly behind her, watching her with dangerous eyes, shadowed by dark circles under them, and fear deep in his heart. The dark magic that seemed to cause the wood to hum caused her to frown, and she sighed softly, dropping her hand to her side.

"Why am I here? I shouldn't be here," she whispered, so Draco was unable to hear her. She pondered it, staring at the Cabinet with blank eyes. If she was sent through the Matching Cabinet in Borgin & Burke's, then it should have sent her to the Cabinet in her Hogwarts, the future Hogwarts. What was she missing? There was something she was forgetting. Something really big.

She scowled and turned on her heel, kicking a nearby stack of books so it toppled to the dusty floor in anger. Draco looked at her, eyebrow cocked smartly, and she held up a hand. "Not a word, Malfoy. Seriously. Not a word," she ordered, and Draco nodded, slightly scared of the woman. She looked at the Cabinet again, before growling and turning, striding to the door with her head held high.

She was not the smartest witch of her generation for no reason. She would discover the Cabinet's secrets, and she would get home. Even if it took her a year, she would get home.

Draco looked at the Cabinet, and felt the Mark on his arm burn in response to the darkness that the Cabinet oozed. Gulping, and coughing to cover it, he gave the cabinet an uneasy, almost terrified glare, before following Hermia, thoughts of guilt and duty plaguing his young, corrupt mind.


	6. A Birthday Surprise Part 1

**AN: Please Read and Review. Five reviews for the next chapter :) Special Mention for all who review :) **

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**The Mudblood's Daughter and the Vanishing Cabinet**

Hermione waited until the Thirty-First of January to decide that she should use the Pregnancy Potion she had bought from Hogsmeade on the Saturday trip the week before. Just in-case it had been a fluke, that she had missed that one period. She wanted to find out if she was pregnant before she attempted to apparate. She had read that it could cause miscarriage in early pregnancy. There was one horrifying story she had read where a woman had apparated, and she had left the baby behind.

She shuddered, before reading the instructions. She read the instructions carefully. If her uterus glowed white after three minutes, she was pregnant. If it didn't, she wasn't. She stared at the small vial of shimmering pink liquid. Sniffing it, she nearly gagged at the sickly sweet smell it had. Taking a deep breath, she tipped the vial and poured the potion down her throat.

She squeezed her eyes shut, as the thick, tooth-ache inducing sweet potion trickled down her throat, wincing visibly. She looked at her watch, and then stood to walk in front of the floor-length mirror, taking off her robe quickly. She pulled up her shirt, and stared at her stomach. Placing her hand on the flat flesh, she sighed, before looking at her watch. Two minutes to go...

"Hermione! You'll never guess... What are you doing?" Ginny asked, standing at the doorway. Hermione's eyes widened, and she stammered. Ginny slowly walked into the dormitory, closing the door behind her. Her eyes, sparkling hazel went from the small vial on Hermione's bedside table, to Hermione's exposed stomach. "Hermione...?"

Hermione's eyes began to fill with tears, and as the first one slipped down her cheek, her uterus began to glow, at first softly, and white, before it got brighter, causing Ginny to squint. Then, it subsided, and Hermione let go off her shirt, tears freely pouring down her cheeks. "Ginny...I made a really big mistake."

"'Mione... what? How could this happen?" Ginny asked, taking Hermione's hand, and sitting down on her bed with her. Hermione rambled, tripping over her words while Ginny listened, biting her lip. Then, when Hermione had finally stopped rambling and crying, and looked at her waiting for her response. Ginny stayed silent, and then stared into Hermione's eyes. "What are you going to do? You have to tell Malfoy."

"I can't! Ginny, he doesn't know that we slept together! Do you know what he would do to me if he found out?" Hermione sobbed, and Ginny pulled her into a tight hug, flipping her long straight orange locks over her shoulder. Hermione took a deep breath.

"What about Harry and Ron? Hermione, you have got to at least tell them," Ginny said, and Hermione pulled away from Ginny like she was on fire, her eyes wide.

"NO! Ginny, they cannot find out. They will kill Malfoy, and never talk to me again! You cannot tell them! Promise me you will not tell them!" Hermione begged. Ginny nodded rapidly, shocked by the desperation in Hermione's voice. Hermione felt back onto her bed, staring up at the canopy, placing a palm on her slightly rounded uterus. It was really only noticeable as she was on her back, and if you weren't to look closely she might just look a bit like she was a little bloated. Her jeans were digging into her side slightly.

"What are you going to do about Apparation? It's not exactly safe is it?" Ginny said sarcastically, and Hermione groaned, hitting her forehead with her hand, shrieking furiously. "I'll take that as an 'I don't know'."

* * *

Charissa strode through the shadowed, shriek-filled halls of Azkaban. She wore black robes, cinched in at the waist by a thick leather corset belt. A large hat shadowed her features, and her curls tumbled down her back. Idly, her eyes flicked left to right, icy-blue as she stepped over loose bits of rubble, breifly gazing behind the bar doors that held in the prisoners, their faces crazed, dirty and stribes robes torn and ratty. Screams echoed from the cells, and dementors swarmed around the outside of the building, waves crashing against the stone walls of the fortress.

"Cell 2036, open it," the gruff voice of the Auror who had accompanied her to the cell ordered, and there was a slow, mechanical creaking, before the bars began to recede into the stone. Charissa took a deep breath, maintaining a cool facade as she walked into the cell and the door rolled shut behind her.

She looked down at the slumped, greyish form of Lucius Malfoy. His long, pale hair was matted and dirty, his skin grey and sickly. His eyes were empty, devoid of all emotion. He didn't even seem to reckon her presence. She kicked him in the leg with the toe of her black lace-up boots. He groaned, and looked up at her. His eyes widened slightly, before they dulled and looked at the floor.

Looking over her shoulder, she bent down and grabbed his hand, pulling up into a standing position. He stumbled, and she held him up, scowling. "Pull yourself together, Malfoy," she snapped, her eyes icey. He looked at her. The contempt that Charissa felt shredded her normally good nature, and for nearly the thirtieth time, she questioned why she had agreed to help Narcissa get in contact with her husband, the man who had killed her father, his own brother.

"I have something for you. It's from Narcissa," Charissa told him, and she reached into some mystery pocket on her robes and pulled out a small hand mirror. An image of Narcissa was visible on it, her face worried as she looked into the mirror. "It's a communication devise. You can speak and see Narcissa through it," she explained, and he glowered at her. As if he didn't know what it was, he was an educated wizard, for Merlin's sake. Charissa looked up at the tiny window, grinding her teeth as she saw the Dementors that swarmed the sky.

"I am working on getting you out of this place. It's difficult to plead your case because you are a complete and total bastard, but I'm trying," Charissa said, and Lucius looked at her, surprise flitting across his features as he asked 'Why?'. Charissa inhaled deeply, closing her eyes before she looked at him, coldly. "Because Narcissa asked me too. And as much as I hate you, I can't let her suffer because of your mistakes. She loves you. And you being in here is killing her, so I am going to get you out."

Lucius fell to the floor with a thud, his eyes lowering, guilt filling him. Charissa looked down her nose at him, before she reached into her robe again, and pulled out his wand. "Use it to keep the Dementors away. If I find out you have escaped, I will kill you myself, understood?" She didn't wait for his reply, before she turned on her heel and demanded that they let her out.

* * *

Hermione woke up the next morning, her stomach swirling and nervousness gripping her. The sky, filled with purple-grey clouds spewed out unrelenting cold rain. She swallowed, almost fearfully, as she remembered that she had to go to her first Apparation lesson that Saturday morning. That was the only plus she could see, as wouldn't miss any classes. Unfortunately, she would not have the time to do homework. She didn't eat breakfast, even though Ginny tried to make her, and spent the rest of the morning before the lesson with Harry, careful to avoid his probing looks, and not to try and listen out for Ron.

She had figured out how far along she was. Six weeks. Her baby was half the size of a pea. Barely there at all really. She felt tears prick the corners of her eyes, at how this tiny little, half-pea was going to change everything in her life. Tears pricked her eyes and she unconsciously placed on her womb, over her robes. She suddenly felt eyes on her, and turned her head to see Harry looking at her, worry laced through his emerald eyes. She immediately moved her hand, and gave him a shaky smile. "Are you okay?" Harry asked.

"I'm fine, Harry. We're going to be late for the lesson, come on," Hermione brushed him off, standing and walking from the Gryffindor Common Room to the portrait. Harry sighed, before he followed her, knowing she was right. They walked in silence, Hermione not wanting to talk, and Harry not wanting to start a conversation and have Hermione mad at him, as that seemed to happen a lot lately. The enchanted ceiling was filled with dark, swirling clouds, and rain attacked the large windows of the Great Hall. All the tables had been removed. Candles lit the hall, to replace the light that had been denied them by the sun. The Heads of the Houses, McGonnagle, Snape, Flitwick and Sprout, stood at the far end, with a pale, wispy wizard who looked as frail as Hermione felt.

She looked at Harry out the corner of her eye, and was grateful to see that he was sufficiently distracted by the wizard. She released a heavy breath, and tried to focus on what Twycross was saying, yet found her mind drifting again. She tuned out of what he was saying, not really caring which was odd for her, and placed her palm softly on her stomach in an attempt to ease the nausea that was coming over her. She only began to pay attention again when she noticed everyone was moving.

Harry began to move away from her, and Hermione, against her better judgement, felt panic rise up in her at him leaving her. She tried to follow him, but stopped, when she saw where he was going. Desperate, she called out for him, yet it came out more as a demand with the panic in her voice sound more like anger. "Harry, where are you going?" she called. She looked around her, feeling claustrophobic all of a sudden, trapped, and she grabbed McGonnagle's arm as she walked past.

"Professor, I can't do this," she whispered, and McGonnagle's eyes widened as she saw the panic and fear that filled Hermione's eyes. McGonnagle asked 'Why' softly. Hermione looked around, to see no one paying attention to them, probably assuming that she was just asking what book to read about Apparation, like the know-it-all she was. "I'm pregnant," Hermione breathed, and for a moment, she was unsure if McGonnagle had heard her, before the woman let out a surprised gasp.

McGonnagle pursed her lips, and had to fight down the disappointment that rose in her at her young students words, and instead to on the girl's desperation and fear. "Do not try to apparate, just spin. Come and see me after the lesson," McGonnagle instructed, and Hermione nodded, thankfully, releasing her grip on McGonnagle's arm. McGonnagle turned and walked up to the front, whispering something to Twycross, who looked over at Hermione momentarily before nodding. McGonnagle moved away to the side, with the other House Heads. Twycross gave her a sad look, before he began to talk about the three D's of Apparation, Destination, Determination and Deliberation.

He instructed the to fix their mind on their destination, the interior of their hoop. Hermione found this oddly easy, considering, and realised how peaceful it was, to just focus on one thing, instead of thousands at the same time. She barely heard the next step, which was Determination, as she let her mind focus completely on this hoop. When she heard Twycross say 'spin' she looked up in surprise, as he gave them the instruction to spin on his command. Her eyes widened, before seeking out Harry, who was looking around as well. When Twycross began count down, Hermione took a deep breath. When he got to Three, she spun.

And nearly threw up. Her hand went to her mouth, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the rise of bile, forcing herself to swallow. When they had to retry, retry and retry again, she was only able to stay standing for a minute before she had to sit down because of dizziness. Her head pounded, and when a series of pained screams erupted, her head spun. She looked over to see Susan Bones from Hufflepuff missing a leg as she hopped around in her hoop. As the Head's of Houses swarmed her and reattached her legs, Twycross explained Splinching, something that made Hermione pale even more.

Then... they had to spin again. An hour later, and Hermione was nauseous, tired and just wanting to stuff herself full of turkey and stuffing and potatoes. But instead, after being sarcastic to Ron, she went to Professor McGonnagle's office, as she had been instructed before the lesson had begun. She knocked on the door, and heard a 'Come in' in response. She opened the door and looked in to see Twycross, McGonnagle and Hermia all sitting around McGonnagle's desk, each one with an equally serious look on their faces. She approached the desk cautiously, her eyes going to Hermia who had an odd look on her face, before she sat down on the chair offered.

"Miss Granger, I... I honestly do not know what to say..." McGonnagle sighed, at a loss for words. Hermione could almost see the waves of disappointment and sadness that rolled of the woman. Hermia placed a hand on McGonnagle's shoulder, and gave her a small smile, before she sat on the desk opposite Hermione.

"Miss Granger... Hermione, I understand what you are going through. I myself have been through it. Trust me, no one here is mad at you, we just want to make sure you stay well and healthy. I assume you have not yet been to see a Midwife?" Hermia asked, and Hermione shook her head, slightly dumbfounded. Hermia gave her a gentle look. "Would you like me to organise you an appointment with one? I assure you that she is very good, and will be there for you no matter what your situation."

"You would do that?" Hermione asked, and Hermia nodded. The look on her face was so similar, that Hermione found herself even more mystified by how recognisable it was. Hermione released a shuddery breath. "Thank you... I had no idea what I was going to do," Hermione told them, and Hermia placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to give her some comfort. Hermione suddenly knew where she recognised this woman from. This woman was like her own mother, in nearly every feature. She looked like a Hallows Witch, in her nearly every feature. Hermione frowned to herself. She knew there was no way her mother would be as accepting of this pregnancy, than Professor King.

Almost as if she knew what Hermione was thinking, Hermia then mentioned her parent's. "You aren't ready for people to know, are you? You haven't told your mother, or father?" Hermia stated, rather than asked, because she knew. She had been in that exact position. Hermione swallowed. "You need to sit your Apparating test. Mister Twycross, is she able to continue with the lessons if she is pregnant?"

Twycross looked slightly shocked, but nodded. "Yes, it is very rare for someone to misplace a foetus when Apparating. She should be fine, as long as she tries her hardest," Twycross replied, and Hermione gave a relieved sigh, thankful. She needed to know how to Apparate.

"Miss Granger, I would also advise that you tell your friends. You will need their support to get through this, trust me," Hermia instructed, and Hermione looked at her, before biting her lip and agreeing with her. Fear and doubt pooled in her stomach, adding to her nausea, and turning her skin a sickly green colour. Hermia noticed, and released a heavier breath. "You are excused. I will send you an owl for when I have organised your appointment."

Hermione stood, and gave her a queasy smile. "Thank you."


	7. A Birthday Surprise Part 2

**AN: Please Read and Review. Five reviews for the next chapter :) Special Mention for all who review :) **

* * *

**The Mudblood's Daughter and the Vanishing Cabinet**

March came, and with it, brought Ron Weasley's birthday. Hermione had his present. It was in her trunk, under her bed, amongst the many collections of books she stored in it. It was nothing big. She had got him a small pocket dragon. It stayed dormant until took out of it's bag, and then it was like a real dragon, only very small. She had also got him some muggle sweets, called Redvines. She knew he would love them. Of course, they weren't talking, a fact that sent pangs of heartache through her, yet no more than what seeing him snogging Lavander did.

She had gone for her first appointment with the Midwife, two weeks ago. She had been a kind, elderly woman, who seemed to exude warmth. Prenatal scans were different to Muggle ones, as they could not use the equipment muggles did. Instead, they did something called 'Magic Tracking'. With an incantation, they were able to see a projection of inside of Hermione's womb, and the tiny plum baby inside it. All measurements and facts about the embryo than recorded themselves onto parchment. She had found that the spell caused her stomach to feel tickly under the flesh, and had had to resist the urge to scratch her stomach.

She had not judged Hermione once during her examination, and she had offered Hermione her Owl Address so if there was anything Hermione was worried about, she could get in touch. Hermione had assured her that should she need to, she would. Ginny had gone with her, held her hand through the process, which Hermione was slightly embarrassed about. Ginny seemed to have taken on the role of a protective lionness in regards to her. Hermione supposed it was to make up for the fact that she had neither Ron or Harry to support her, because they did not know that she was pregnant. If Hermione was truly honest, she didn't want them to know. Harry was so obsessed with Malfoy, that it would have done more harm then good for him to know, and Ron... well right now she just didn't want to talk to him at all.

Ginny made sure she ate breakfast every morning, lunch and dinner. She held her hair back first thing in the morning, if Hermione was suffering a particularly bad bout of morning sickness, and she made sure Hermione avoided anything that could potentially harm her, or the baby, which Ginny had affectionately named 'Little Bean'. At ten weeks, Hermione knew it was more the size of a lime now, instead of a bean, but Ginny honestly didn't care.

She was showing as well. It looked like she had just put on a little weight around her middle, and that she hadn't been bothered to exercise, but her and Ginny had noticed it. She supposed it was because she was so short that she had started to show earlier than other expectant mothers. Either way she had gone from a size eight to a size ten. Ginny would be constantly cooing over it, if it wasn't such a big secret.

The cancellation of the Hogsmeade trip had nearly sent her into tears. She had been looking forward to it, to pick up pre-natal potions and some more quills, all hers had broke. Ginny had scowled, muttering curses under her breath. She was in a bad mood. She had just had another fight with Dean, and was honestly contemplating bat-bogeying his sorry ass.

"Just who does he think he is anyway? He has no right to tell me what I can and cannot do! I am my own person!" Ginny growled, as she sat next to Hermione, who was currently working her way through the Redvines she had gotten Ron. She dipped them in a pickle sauce, which she only got away with because they were in Hermia's office which Hermia had told them they could go to if they ever wanted to.

"He's a boy?" Hermione said, unsure of what to say about this predicament. Ginny glowered at her, and Hermione realised that the question had been rhetorical. Hermia shook her head, as she marked some tests that she had took on for McGonnagle. Hermione decided maybe it was time to change the topic, and turned to Hermia. "Professor, are you married?"

Hermia's eyes widened, and she looked at the two girls, who waited expectantly for a reply. Slowly, she nodded, licking her lips nervously. "Yes, I am... I've been married for eleven years," Hermia told them. Ginny's eyebrows went up, before she asked if she had any kids. Hermia frowned, looking at her ring, before she nodded. "I have three. A girl and two boys."

"Didn't you have one when you were my age?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, she's twenty four now," Hermia said, and Hermione's eyes widened, muttering 'wow', before she stuffed a Redvine covered in pickle sauce in her mouth. Ginny stared at the look of sadness on the Professor's face, and frowned. Why would it make her sad to talk about her family? Unless something had happened to them. Ginny knew that if anything happened to her family, she would just die. She couldn't survive without them. Hermia tucked her hair behind her ear, before pasting a smile onto her face. "How is the apparation going, Hermione?"

"Slow. I never thought it would be this difficult. I just want it to be over and done with really. I have to keep myself from panicking every time I try," Hermione said, placing her palm over her uterus. Hermia nodded. She remembered all too well how terrifying it had been, the thought that if she mis-stepped just once, she could lose her baby. Even with all the reassurances of Twycross and McGonnagle, it had still been nearly petrifying. "I'm just lucky I haven't splinched myself. It's my worst nightmare that I do."

* * *

"Professor Snape? Severus!" Hermia called, as she chased after the dark-clad Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts. Snape grimaced, and then turned to face her, his robes swishing around him as he did so. 'Yes' he drawled, and Hermia had to restrain the urge to roll her eyes. 2I was just wondering, you knew Harry Potter's mother, correct?" she asked.

A look of illness overcame his features, before he grit his teeth. "Yes, I did," he hissed, and Hermia gave him a wide smile, as she nodded to herself. "Why, may I ask, is it any of your business, if I knew her?" he droned, and Hermia shrugged, replying 'Just wondering' innocently. Snape was very quickly realising that this woman had a habit of asking questions he did not like. "Is there a purpose to thsi, or are you just bothering me for the sake of it?"

"Oh, I have a purpose. What do you know about pre-natal potions?" Hermia asked. Snape's eyebrows shot up, before his face levelled into a sneer.

"I was Potion's Master, Professor King. I know plenty about all potions. However I do not possibly know why you would need pre-natal potions from me, when you can just as easily get some from Hogsmeade," Snape said, his tone as condescending as the look he gave her. Hermia tossed her hair over her shoulders, before she replied.

"I want only the best quality of potion, Professor, and I do not trust a store in Hogsmeade to provide the quality I wish," Hermia explained, and Snape pursed his lips. "Would you please make me some?" she asked, and Snape looked at her suspiciously.

"Very well. I shall have them for you by Friday," he aquiensced and Hermia beamed, saying 'Thank you' before she spun on her heel and began to stride away, only to pause a few metres from him.

"Oh, and Professor, I believe that you should keep an eye on Draco Malfoy, he seems really rather exhausted, and I graded his paper for Transfiguration. His grade is slipping," she informed him. Snape scowled at his annoyance with his charge, before he acknowledged what she was saying. Hermia smiled briefly, before she continued on her way, navy cloak trailing after her.

* * *

Ginny rushed up to Hermione, who was reading in the Gryffindor Common Room, looking as relaxed as ever in grey sweatpants and a loose pink t-shirt. Tears streaked down her freckled cheeks, as she grabbed Hermione's hand. Hermione looked at her, in shock, before concern covered her features. "Ginny? What's wrong?" Hermione asked, and Ginny sobbed.

Hermione felt her worry, and fear grow, as Ginny tried to stumble out her words. Hermione grabbed her shoulders, and looked at her levelly in her brown eyes. "GINNY! What is wrong!" she demanded, and Ginny sniffed, wiping her eyes.

"It's Ron. He's had to go to the Hospital Ward, he nearly died," Ginny said, and Hermione's face paled, horrified, before she shot up from her seat and hurtled from the Gryffindor Common Room, nausea almost overwhelming as she tore down the many flights of stairs and down the corridor to the Hospital Wing. Ginny was hot on her trail, as Hermione threw herself at Harry, her arms going around her neck tightly as she hugged him, before she pulled away.

"What happened? Harry, what happened?" she demanded, holding onto his collar. Harry looked at her, in surprise at her white face, which was slightly green around the edges.


	8. Elf Tails Part 1

**AN: Please Read and Review. Five reviews for the next chapter :) Also, I am currently willing to answer any question that you have about this story, or any of the Mudblood's Daughter stories, so please, write in, review, anything :) I'd love to hear your questions, opinions ad queries.  
Another thing is that I am now going to name each chapter after the chapter in the Half-Blood Prince it is set in, so if you wish you can read the book along with the fanfiction.**

**Special Shout-Out to Darthfiredragon, Sulliebee and Miss Troll Queen for their unrelenting support with the story. I don't think they have ever missed a chapter, and for that, I am eternally thankful :)**

* * *

**The Mudblood's Daughter and the Vanishing Cabinet**

Hermione was silent, as she sat by Ron's bedside, Ginny and Harry on either side of her. Her nerves were shot, after having to wait all day to finally get in, and see him. Numbly, she heard Fred and George talking, yet blocked them out as she focused on Ron. It was late. She wasn't exactly sure what time, yet it was after dinner, as Ginny had forced her to eat about an hour or so ago. The curtains on the large windows were drawn, and lamps were lit, the candle flames flickering gently behind the glass guards. Rain could be heard hammering against the window.

She saw George putting a large wrapped gift on the bedside table, before he sat next to Ginny. Hermione looked at him, momentarily, before she stared down at Ron again. She heard them talking about Fred and George buying Zonko's, and how it would be a 'fat load of good' if they weren't allowed to go to Hogsmeade at weekends.

Then she had to squeeze her eyes shut to prevent tears when Harry was made to repeat what had happened to him, how he had been under a love potion and Harry had taken him to Slughorn, how Slughorn had given him the antidote under the guise of a tonic, and how he had offered them a drink to calm their nerves. How Ron had swallowed his first, and collapsed, foaming at the mouth and Harry and remembered about bezoars and found one and shoved it down his throat. Ron's breathing had eased up, and Slughorn had gotten help. McGonnagle and Madame Pomfrey turned up, and had taken him to the Hospital wing, before saying he would be fine and he had to stay there for a week or so.

She looked away from the group, and down at her hands in her lap. Harry's statement of they were lucky to have found a bezoar in the room, was what made her sniff, and raise one to her eyes to remove a threatening-to-fall tear. Taking a shuddery breath, she looked down when she felt a hand clasp around hers, and looked at it, then up, to see Ginny giving her a comforting smile, even though it was her brother who was in Hospital.

"Do Mum and dad know?" Fred asked, looking at Ginny who nodded and said 'They've already seen him', explaining that they had been there an hour ago and gone to talk to Dumbledore. Ron mumbled, and Hermione's eyes instantly went to him, clenching her hand around Ginny's, who's tightened around hers as well. When Fred asked if the poison was in the drink, Hermione nearly groaned in frustration. She didn't want to hear it again.

Harry, on the other hand seemed delighted at the opportunity to talk about it again. Of course, if Hermione knew Harry, which she did, he was going over it in his mind so much that it would drive him crazy if he didn't talk about it. She listened to them accusing, and then defending Slughorn, before she interrupted when Ginny said that Slughorn had planned to give it to Dumbledore, and that it may have been meant to poison Dumbledore.

"Then the poisoner didn't know Slughorn very well," said Hermione. She realised she sounded ver ill, and that it was the first time she had spoken in hours, so she could see the shocked looks on the others. "Anyone who knew Slughorn would have known there was a good chance he'd keep something that tasty for himself."

"Er-my-nee," croaked Ron unexpectedly, and Hermione felt herself warm as she looked at him again, both anxious and softly. She tuned out again, looking up breifly when a rain-soaked Hagrid strode in, before turning her attention back to Ron. However, when they started thinking that this was all because of Quidditch, she looked at them, almost as if they were idiots.

"Well, I don't think it's Quidditch, but I think there's a connection between the attacks," she said quietly, and she went back to looking at Ron, when Fred asked how she worked that out. "Well, for one thing, they both ought to have been fatal and weren't, although that was pure luck. And for another, neither poison nor the necklace seems to have reached the person who was supposed to be killed. Of course that makes the person even more dangerous in a way, because they don't seem to care how many people they finish off before they actually reach their victim."

* * *

Hermia paced her office, one hand on her hip, and the other holding onto her chin as she tried to think. She knew it was Draco. She had lived this all before, and she knew it was Draco. But she couldn't do anything because it would change the future, something she couldn't risk. She groaned in frustration, turning and kicking her desk.

"Mrs Malfoy, it would be rather nice if you could refrain from destroying school property?" Dumbledore chuckled, and Hermia spun on her heel to see the kind-hearted old man smiling at her, his eyes twinkling. She looked at him, before she sniffed and gave him a welcoming smile. "How are you, Mrs Malfoy?"

Hermia had to admit, that the man had a habit of being able to make anybody reveal anything, as she slumped and rambled on about everything. "It's just so hard to be here, to know what is going to happen and not change it. I mean, I could help so many people, and save so many, and it's just gut-wrenching that I can't. I see them all, walking around, and I am trying to hard not to just break down and cry." She turned her back on him, placing her palms flat on her desk and closing her eyes. "Do you know what it is like to see people you loved and lost, people you have grieved for, walking around completely unaware of their fate?"

"Mrs Malfoy, if there was anything I could do to ease your burden-" Dumbledore stopped talking when she reared round, her eyes flashing and pure rage emanating from her. Her fist clenched, and her hair stood on end, her entire form tense. Dumbledore's eyebrows rose.

"If? IF there was anything you could do? You are Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, for Merlin's sake! There is nothing you can not do! And we both know that you know exactly how to send me home! You just won't tell me for whatever reason you have concocted! I am sick of it! I am sick of feeling like I should do as you tell me, because you are the 'greatest Wizard of our time'! I hate it here! I hate it here so much!" Hermione broke from her rant and began to sob, her knees folding under her and crumpling to the floor. Her sobs were heart-wrenching and shook her entire body. "I just want to go home! This isn't fair! I haven't done anything to deserve this torture!"

Dumbledore's eyes softened on her, the usual twinkling diminished as he gently stepped towards her and put a hand on her shoulder, bending down slightly. "I cannot confess that I understand how you feel, Mrs Malfoy, for I believe it is not my place to question matters of the human heart. However, I am truly honest when I tell you I do not have an ulterior motive in being unable to help you. I have never seen a case of time-travel such as yours."

Hermia sniffed, and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. She felt immature, but she missed her family. She was here, watching herself with her friends, her family, and pregnant with her child, that it was almost painful. Because she kept comparing them, to who they were in the future, even though they didn't become those people for years, because of future events, not current ones. Harry was laid-back in the future, because he had realised how obsessive he had been during the war. Ron was more determined because of his lack of it when he was younger, he wanted to make a name for himself, not hold onto the names of others. Qualities they possessed in the future, they did not even entertain in the past.

"I am trying so hard to find out how I get home, but I cannot find anything. I have been here two months, Professor. Two months. And I cannot find an answer to it," Hermia sighed. She ran her hand through her mane of hair, and then looked up a him. "What would you suggest I do?"

"I suggest you take the time to think, Mrs Malfoy. You the answer, somewhere in your mind. Think about everything you know will happen, that will affect these surroundings, and how you got here yourself," Dumbledore told her, and Hermia frowned, but nodded, taking it on board. Dumbledore gave her one more smile, before he left her to her thoughts.

* * *

Hermione lay on her back, staring up at the canopy above her head. The curtains around her bed were drawn, and she had her wand lit up at the foot of her bed. She had her palm on her slightly swollen stomach, stroking it with her thumb as she thought. Ron had nearly died. RON had nearly died. If Harry hadn't found that bezoar, Ron would be dead. There was no way she would be able to survive with that. She closed her eyes, exhaling heavily, and rolling onto her side, curling up.

She loved Ron. Truly she did. He was her best friend, he was the man she loved, he was so important to her it was untrue. To nearly lose him was heart-wrenching, and honestly, she wasn't sure if she could take anymore of this pain. And if they closed Hogwarts, she would be forced home, with her parents. The idea of it was almost suffocating. Her parent's, as much as she loved them, would disown her. Maybe not her mother but most definitely her father. He had almost zero tolerance for things like that, having been raised in a strict Christian home.

Hermione reached under her pillow, and looked at the small picture of her baby, moving around the centre, like a little alien. It had little arms, and little feet, and a massive head. She chuckled wetly, as it's arm moved in a waving potion, like it was waving to her. She felt wetness on her cheeks, and realised that she was crying with great disappointment. She always seemed to be crying lately. She honestly didn't know whether to blame the baby, or to blame the events that seemed to be spiralling around her. Sniffing, she snuggled into her pillow, putting her sonogram back under it, to try and get some sleep. Hopefully, the next day would be better than that day. It's not like it could have been any worse.

The next Saturday, she was braiding Ginny's hair to keep it away from face when she was playing Quidditch. Ginny's eyes widened, when she felt a brush against her back, and she turned in her seat, staring at Hermione's stomach. Hermione, the end of Ginny's braid still in her hand, rose an eyebrow, when Ginny lifted up her blue jumper, that was a size twelve and effectively hid her bump. "Hermione... you have a bump," she gasped, and Hermione nodded."Like an actual, 'she's pregnant' bump. What were your measurements before?"

"Hips were thirty-six and waist was twenty-seven," Hermione replied absently, still braiding Ginny's long, fiery hair. Ginny managed a 'What are they now'. That was only what caused her to flush, and stop braiding. "Forty and twenty-nine," she whispered. Ginny gaped at her, and Hermione had to giggle at the look on her face. Ginny turned er, so her belly was side on, and there was a definite bump. It was a little like she had swallowed a tennis ball, and it had caused a bump in her belly.

"Oh my god! Look at you! You are round!" Ginny gushed. Hermione laughed, quickly tying Ginny's braid and letting her admire her belly. "It's amazing. You can actually tell you are pregnant now. I mean, you're not big, but you can tell you're pregnant. It's amazing!" Ginny flushed, beaming at Hermione. Hermione blushed, giggling. She had been in an almost serene mood, since Monday, as she had been visiting Ron everyday, and it felt so amazing to have her best friend back, even with everything else that was going on. "You are going to have to tell them, 'Mione."

"Ginny..." Hermione sighed. She didn't want to have this argument, not right before the Quidditch match. Ginny put up her brown leather gloved hand, shushing her. Hermione scowled at her, and when to open her mouth again, to tell her exactly where Ginny could shove her 'shushing' when Ginny put her hand over Hermione's mouth. "Mph!" Hermione snapped, angrily.

"Hermione, you are showing, if you don't tell them now, you never will. I demand that you do it after the game. Not matter what. Or else I will," Ginny demanded. Hermione's eyes widened, and she nodded quickly. Both her fear of the Weasley temper, and the fact that she knew Ginny wasn't bluffing made her agree to Ginny's demands. Ginny smirked smugly. "Good. Now come on, we got a Quidditch pitch to get to."

* * *

Charissa knocked on the door to her grandmothers room. She listened for a reply, and sighed when she never received one. She opened the door slightly, and looked into the room. It was dark, as always, and deadly silent. Calling out 'Grandmother?' she slowly entered the large room, lifting a candle in it's holder from the chest outside the room, it's flame flickering with the sudden movement. She placed the holder down on the desk, lighting the candle on the desk, and the going to the bedside and lighting the candle's on the bedside table.

Her grandmother lay painfully still in the centre of her bed, her skin a pale grey, and eyes closed. Her hair long and grey fanned out around her head. There was a small frown on her lips, which were dry and cracked. Charissa furrowed her eyebrows, and placed her hand on her grandmothers shoulder. "Grandmother?" she called out her, trying to wake her, yet Cassadria stayed silent, and her eyes stayed closed. Charissa swallowed, and pursed her lips, as she placed her fingers onto Cassadria Hallow's cheek.

Cool flesh met her own chilled fingers, and Charissa's eyes widened, her entire form going rigid, and trembling as she stared at her Grandmother. Her teeth grit, and in that moment, something within her snapped. Anger, icy yet boiling, surged through her, and her eyes turned black. She stood, her back ram-rod straight, and stared down at the passed Cassadria. "Dawna," she called, and with a crack, the house elf appeared beside her. Her large blue eyes stared up at her, sensing the tense, surging anger that boiled within her Master, and squeaked 'yes, Miss Hallows?'.

"It appears my grandmother is dead. See to it that the others are informed, and arrange for her to be moved. I will not have her body on this property for longer than necessary. Ensure she is buried next to Grandfather. Are my orders clear?" Charissa asked, not looking at the House Elf, and turning her back to her Grandmother.

"Yes Miss."

"Good. And it's Lady Hallows, Dawna," Charissa informed, and Dawna nodded to herself. Charissa looked at her, once, before she turned and strode from the room.

Mentally, she ticked off her family in her head. Cassadria, Abbrox, Cassandra, Kyrian, Cissady, Corvine. All dead. All gone. Claria-Jane, Miona. Not officially Hallows blood. Her Great Aunt Cassandra would not take over the Hallows Empire, nor would her second cousin Cissady. Neither of them wanted to be tied to the Hallows family, and all the responsibility it's name held. Her great-Grandmother Cassia-Lillian was far too aged to be the Head, and had already passed on her title at the age of eighty. She lived in Paris now. Albus Dumbledore was not of Hallows Name, and male. You had to be female to be the face of the Hallows Empire, that was how it had always been.

It was just her. A bitter laugh escaped her. The last of the Hallows Family, by name and blood. She had nobody.


	9. Elf Tails Part 2

**AN: Please Read and Review. I am currently willing to answer any question that you have about this story, or any of the Mudblood's Daughter stories, so please, write in, review, anything :) I'd love to hear your questions, opinions and queries.  
Another thing is that I am now going to name each chapter after the chapter in the Half-Blood Prince it is set in, so if you wish you can read the book along with the fanfiction.**

**And for future reference, in my story Teddy was born on July 23 1997 instead of at the end of Deathly Hallows. So Tonks was pregnant during the end of the sixth book. **

* * *

**The Mudblood's Daughter and the Vanishing Cabinet**

Hermione sat down, looking down at where the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff teams were lining up. She was lucky, she guessed, that Harry hadn't noticed this week that she was bigger. Though, really? It wasn't that surprising. Between his homework; Quidditch practice; being constantly dogged by Cormac McLaggen and Lavender Brown and his annoying, interfering obsession with Malfoy, Harry very rarely had time to notice that she was acting differently, eating differently...

Hermione shook her head, focusing, and cheered when they went into the sky. She watched Harry, as he looked around rapidly soaring here there and everywhere above the pitch in search of the snitch. He seemed off, as if he was preoccupied by something. Hermione frowned. What had happened before the match? Had he had a run in with someone? Malfoy? Hermione bit her lip, but had to giggle at Luna's commentary. She shook her head at Luna's dreamy, spaced out voice, looking up to the Commentary Podium with a smile.

"And that's Smith of Hufflepuff with the Quaffle. He did the commentary last time, of course, and Ginny Weasley flew into him, I think probably on purpose - it looked like it. Smith was being quite rude about Gryffindor, I expect he regrets that now he is playing them - oh, look, he's lost the Quaffle, Ginny took it from him, I do like her, she's very nice..." Luna spoke, her voice melodic as she swayed slightly on the spot, next to a very uncomfortable Professor McGonnagle, and a laughing Professor King. "...but now that big Hufflepuff player's got the Quaffle from her, I can't remember his name, it's something like Bibble - no, Biggins -"

Hermione shook her head at McGonnagle's burst of 'It's Cadwallader!' and turned her attention back to the game. She growled when Cadwallader scored, catching Ginny's eye. The red head was equally fuming, the bastard had elbowed her to get the Quaffle and it had hurt. Not only that, but McLaggen was criticizing the way she played HER game, while he wasn't even playing his own right. He hadn't even seen the bloody Quaffle going past his ear! Hermione pursed her lips, her fingers itching to go to her wand when McLaggen began to criticize Harry as well. Luna, naturally, commented on this, and caused jeering and cheering from the Hufflepuff's and the Slytherin's. Hermione flushed when she heard Harry swearing, and then cheered happily when Ginny and Demelza scored for Gryffindor. Than the brute, Cadwallader scored, making them level in score.

Luna was talking about clouds, however, and that Zacharias Smith, who was failing to maintain possession of the Quaffle, was suffering from something called 'Loser's Lurgy', as McGonnagle shouted out the score into her megaphone. Luna's eyebrows rose, and she practically sang her next words. "Is it really? Oh, look! The Gryffindor Keeper's got hold of one of the Beater's bats."

Hermione's head swung almost painfully, as did Ginny's and every other person in the Pitch. Hermione spied the pure rage on Harry's face as he roared at McLaggen, soaring towards him. She screamed when the Bludger that McLaggen miss-hit collided with Harry's head, and he began to fall from the sky. Almost instinctively, Hermione whipped out her wand and sent a Stinging Hex at McLaggen, while Ginny dove for him on her broom, blind panic in her eyes as she shouted his name. Hermia stood in her eat and quickly rose her wand, casting 'Wingardium Leviosa' which stalled Harry's fall, enough for Ginny to get a grip on him.

"CORMAC MCLAGGEN! MY OFFICE NOW!" she roared, and the boy who's face looked like a toad looked at her fearfully. McGonnagle's temper was enough to scare anyone, but Hermia King, Hermione MALFOY, was a force to be reckoned with, when she was made into an enemy. McGonnagle didn't feel any pity for the boy either, as Hermia, who had marched down from the Commentators Stand to the pitch, where he was sprawled, his skin pulsating, grabbed McLaggen's collar and shoved him to his feet.

Hermione tore through the crowds of gaping spectators, to Harry and Ginny. Her wand was still in her hand, and the look on her face match the one on Hermia's, worry, anger and disgust all rolled into one dangerous, unrecognisable expression. Ginny held Harry up, the unconsciousness boy slumped over, blood pouring from the frightful gash on his head, bruising already staining his skin. Hermione felt herself get queasy, and looked at Ginny, who was glowering at McLaggen with a rueful expression and Hermia marched him from the pitch. "Let's get him to Madame Pomfrey."

Ginny nodded, and looked at Dean, who came over to help Ginny lift him, Hermione following, her emotions bubbling within her.

* * *

"YOU_** STUPID**_BOY! Give me one reason why I should not convince Professor McGonnagle to have you expelled from school? Not only did you insult every member of the Gryffindor team and make a mockery of them, you injured a fellow student! Not only another student, but a member of your own house! You are a disgrace to the game of Quidditch, and the name of Godric Gryffindor," Hermia fumed, and Cormac visibly shook in the chair she had forced him into.

Hermia's face was blotchy red, her lips in a thin line. Her hair had frizzed up, into a tangled mess, and her eyes were glowing red. "You will have detention every evening, until the end of the year. You will do the dishes every evening after dinner, without magic, under the supervision of the house elves. As well, you will make a formal apology to every member of the Gryffindor team, separately. I will contact your parent's regarding your behaviour. Now get out of my office, before I think of another punishment to give you."

Cormac scrambled out of the chair and raced from the office, his cheeks red, and the hex on his face reversed. Hermia sat in her chair, silently fuming, before she took a deep, calming breath and rubbed her temples. Okay. She needed to distract herself. Otherwise she would just get angrier, and that was never good for anyone. She opened the drawer on her desk, and pulled out a piece of parchment. She dipped the quill on her desk's tip into her pot of ink, and looked at the parchment.

_WHAT I KNOW_

_Travelled through the time by the vanishing cabinet in Borgin & Burke's (2020) to the Cabinet in the Room of Requirement (1996).  
Room of Requirement fire in 1998 destroyed everything in the room, including the cabinet paired with the one in Knockturn Alley.  
If the Cabinet was destroyed in the future, it may have sent me to the past one as it was the only other paired Cabinet in existence.  
Cabinet link can cross time if the future Cabinet is destroyed. (Other cabinet must be destroyed for the travel to work.)_

Hermia tapped her foot, looking at her revealing, albeit short, list. If the cabinet in the Room of Requirement wasn't destroyed, then the cabinet in her future that was in Borgin & Burke's would have just sent her to the cabinet in the future Hogwarts. Which meant that logically, if the cabinet that was in this time at Borgin & Burkes was destroyed, than she would travel to the future Cabinet instead of the one in the time she was in. But, if the one in this time was destroyed, the one in the future would be destroyed as well.

Unless she didn't destroy the one in this time, just disabled it's connection. But then she would have to somehow find a way to get a message to the future, to tell them to re-create the connection. And even if she figured out how to do that, she would have to wait until after the events that lead to Dumbledore's death, so that the future is not changed. She could feel a headache coming on, and pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes and yawning.

She could be here for a much longer time, she would just have to deal with this.

* * *

Charissa was intimidated, when she first walked through the gleaming, golden doors of the Hallows Empire. The entrance Hall, a large, room with glass panelled walls, and a square, gold and white reception desk almost made it seem like she had walked into heaven. The white marble staircase seeming to go on forever as she looked at it, and at the top of the two storey flights, where two sets of glass doors, with gold handles against a white marble wall. Above one door was the 'Administrative/Records', laid in gold plated letters, and above the other a list of the departments.

In gold plated letters were Senior Management, Accounts, Human Resources, Sales and Marketing, Charities, Applications and Purchasing/Production. She could feel the thrum of magic as she stepped into through the second door. Goblins worked in Accounts, attending to the financial matters of the organisation, whereas normal Wizards and Witches worked in the others. Applications was where entrepreneurial businesses applied for loans to help or start their own business and Charities was the department that offered support and offices to local and global charities, as well as the Charity run by the Hallows Empire as well. Purchasing/Production was where the business organised and ordered their stock, and everyday supplies, as well as produced their own services, such as lawyers and advisers. Sales and Marketing dealt with nearly everything to do with the advertising and market research that the Empire needed.

Senior Management, was where the offices that held all the bosses where. Her office, that used to be her mothers, and her grandmothers, had sat without anyone in it for the last five months. On the corridor were also her Vice-President's office, the different department Head Manager's offices and some offices that were owned by the owners of some of the organisations that the Hallows Empire supported. She looked at her door, at the end of the marble corridor, with glass walls to seat into the offices, and wooden doors painted gold She could see the Managers, and the Owners and the Vice-President through the glass panes, slowly starting to take notice of her. She gripped her black robes, with black lace gloved finders, and strode down the hallway to her office.

"Miss, you aren't allowed in there," a voice called to her as she went to enter the office. She looked over her shoulder to see the Vice-President looking at her with vainly hidden mistrust. Charissa rose an eyebrow. She wore black robes, with a thick green belt, and a green, embellished cape with a fake fur collar and hem. Black roses were embroidered up her robe skirts, which fell to the floor in overlapping layers, straight down. She had long bell sleeves, and her hair, normally falling free in curls, or pulled into a ponytail, was tightly wound into a french twist.

"I beg your pardon? This is MY Empire. I believe I can do whatever I wish," Charissa stated, and the Vice-President looked confused. "I am Charissa Hallows. My Grandmother passed away this morning. I am here to make an announcmemt of it to the staff. Is that understood?" Charissa asked, and the slightly dumb-founded Vice-President nodded. Charissa nodded, and went into the office, closing the door behind her. She drew the curtains that hung over the glass panes, and then looked around the office.

Portraits of the nine previous Head of the Hallows Family hung on the walls. From Cassandra Hallows, daughter of Sarina Hallows, to Cassandra Hallows, her own mother. A bookshelf lined the back wall behind the large oak desk, standing magnificent in the centre of the office. On the desk was a basket willed with letters, files and papers.

There was a knock on the door, and Charissa faced it, saying 'Come in'. The door opened, and the Vice President came in, holdign a file, her eyes beedy behind round rimmed glasses. Charissa rose her eyebrows, as the older woman stood tall. "The employees have been assembled in the Lunch Hall, ready for your announcement, Lady Hallows," she sneered, and Charissa narrowed her eyes, sensing trouble within the Vice-President.

"What is your name?" she asked, and the Vice-President sniffed haughtily, replying 'Magdeline McCain'. Charissa let out a soft 'Hmm' before she brushed past McCain, chin high, and eyes chilly. "Get me a Venti Mocha, with extra cream and chocolate powder, Miss McCain. You nedn't hear the announcement as you already know what is happening."

McCain gaped at her, and Charissa gave her a very 'Malfoy' smirk, before brushing down the corridor with the air of authority and grace that every rich witch with a superiority complex possesed, with an air that every Hallows witch before her possessed.

* * *

Hermione sat between Harry and Ron's beds, Harry unconcious in his and Ron smiling at her from where he lay. She bit her lip, knowing that she would have to tell Ron. While Harry was unvoncious, Ron wasn't and Ginny would tell him, if Hermione didn't. Ron frowned, sensing her mood. "What's up, Mione? Forget to do some homework?" he joked, and Hermione laughed softly, shaking her head.

Hermione looked down at her lap, and Ron stared at her, before reaching over and grabbing her hand, squeezing it softly, trying to offer her support. "C'mon 'Mione, you can tell me anything," Ron pressed, and Hermione felt tears begin to prick at her eyes. "Hey, it can't be that bad. Homework's not that important. And teachers love you... well, other than Snape, but he's a slimy git."

Hermione sniffed, and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him and crying. Ron's eyebrows shot up, and awkwardly, he patted her back, not used to dealing with crying girls. Normaly Harry dealt with Hermione's moods. "I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry, I didn't mean to..." Hermione sobbed, and Ron just looked at her bushy, out-of-control hair.

"Hermione, what are you talking about?" Ron asked, completely lost, and Hermione fell back into her seat, her face in her hands. When she finally looked at him, he had to resist the urge to recoil. Her nose was red, and snot was gathering at the end, her eyes were swollen, and puffy, and her hair had gone manic, almost like a giant afro on her head.

"I... Ron... I... I'm pregnant," Hermione stammered. Ron looked at her, going pale. He stuttered, before he began turning red. Hermione's eyes widened, as she knew that his was going to shout, and she shot up, covering his mouth with her palm. "Ron. Please don't be mad with me, please. i was upset, I didn't know what I was doing."

Ron looked at her, eyeing the hysterics in her eyes, before he closed his own, nodding slowly. Hermione bit her lip, and slowly moved away from him, sitting on the bed beside him. "So, you got a bump?" he asked, and Hermione nodded. Ron stared at her. "Can I see?" he asked. Hermione gave a huff of air, snorting and shook her head. She lifted her jumper, so he could see the slight swell of her stomach under her shirt. "Wow... that's... pregnant... it's not McLaggen's is it?"

"No, definitly not. I promise," Hermione stated, and Ron chuckled, relieved. "Ron, you can not tell Harry, do you understand?" He acknowledged her with a nod. "Ron, I want you to promise you will not tell him. I need you to."

"Mione, you know I don't li-" she cut him off with a pleading look, saying 'Please' in a begging tone. He exhaled heavily, before nodding. "Fine. I promise I won't tell him. But when are you going to tell him?"

"Later, I promise. I'll tell him later."


	10. Lord Voldemort's Request

**AN: Please Read and Review. **

* * *

**The Mudblood's Daughter and the Vanishing Cabinet**

Hermione had to admit, that when she found out that Harry and Ron would be able to leave the Hospital Wing first thing the following Monday Morning, she was ecstatic. Not only that, but her morning sickness was finally gone, now she was nearing the end of her first trimester, eleven weeks and four days. However, the good mood was dampened by Ginny and Dean arguing the night before. Ginny had been so angry she had gone right to bed after the argument. The plus side was that Ginny was so preoccupied with being mad that she was not treating Hermione like a piece of expensive china.

She put her arm through both the boys, beaming at them happily, leading them to the Great Hall for breakfast. "Ginny and Dean fought again last night. It was horrible. They kept the first and second years up, and then Ginny slammed all the doors on her way to her bed. She refused to come out again for the rest of the night."

"What did they row about?" Harry asked her, and Hermione had to stifle a laugh at the sound of the casual tone he was trying to adopt, and failing. She looked at Ron, who was completely oblivious, eating a Redvine from Hermione's last packet, which she had given him because she had ate the ones she had gotten for his birthday. Hermione didn't mind. She had three tubs of 240 Redvines at home. They turned the corner into a seventh-floor corridor.

A tiny girl, holding heavy brass scales, who had been staring at a tapestry of trolls in tutu's stared at them in terror, and the scales slipped from her hands. The clattering was deafening. Hermione immediatly hurried forward, giving the very small girl a kind smile. "It's alright, here," she tapped the scales with her wand and said 'Reparo'. The girl was silent, watching them with terrified eyes as they left her in the corridor

"I swear they are getting smaller," Ron said, and Hermione shook her head, laughing to herself, while Harry tapped her arm impatiently, eyebrows furrowed over his emerald eyes.

"Never mind her. What did Ginny and Dean row about, Hermione?" Harry persisted, and Hermione shrugged, before responding that Dean had been laughing about McLaggen hitting him with a Bludger. She glowered at Ron when he said 'it must have been funny'.

"It was not funny at all, Ronald Weasley! It was horrifying! If Professor King hadn't caught him with a Wingardium Leviosa, Harry could have been terribly hurt!" Hermione reprimanded, hitting Ron on the harm. Harry had to admit he was surprised when Ron didn't argue back, just gave her a soft look and put an arm around her shoulders, giving her a half-hug.

"Yeah, well, there was no need for Ginny and Dean to split up over it," Harry guessed, still trying hard to be casual and failing. "Or are they still together?"

Hermione gave him a sharp look, and put her hand on her hip. "Yes, they are - but why are you so interested?" she asked, knowing perfectly well why he was interested. Harry quickly made an excuse, but Hermione continued to give him her special 'I-know-better' glower. Harry looked anywhere but her face, when his eyes stopped on her robes.

"Hermione, have you put on weight?" he asked, trying to change the subject. Hermione blinked, before tears bean to fill her eyes. Harry's eyes widened. "No, I just mean... you look bigger! I mean..." he tried to stop but Hermione sniffed and began to cry. Ron shook his head, smirking and said to Hermione that she looked great. Hermione looked at him, asking 'Really?' and he nodded. Harry looked at them, was suddenly really grateful when a voice called his name, giving him the excuse to look away.

"Oh, hi Luna," he said, smiling crookedly at her. She beamed back dreamily.

"I went to the hospital Wing to find you," Luna said, rummaging around her bag, "but they said you'd left..." She thrust what appeared to be a green onion, a large spotted toadstool and a considerable amount of what Hermione and harry surmised to be cat litter into a surprised and amused Ron's hands, finally pulling out a rather grubby scroll of parchment that she handed to Harry. Hermione inched away a little, slightly nervous of dirt. "I've been told to give you this."

It was another invitation from Dumbledore for a lesson. "Tonight," he told his two best friends. Hermione smiled blissfully.

* * *

Harry, for however much he was being distracted by so many other things, noticed there was something different about Hermione. She seemed... softer. Happier. At first, he just attributed it to her being friends with Ron again, but as he looked at her more, she seemed distracted as well, not by Ron, but by something else.

Her hand was almost always resting on her stomach, which Harry found odd, and she agreed to look over his Herbology Essay that afternoon, a peaceful look on her face as she did so, casually correcting his mistakes, even though she knew Harry was going to let Ron copy his essay. She was just... quiet and mellowed. She was just so... happy.

Hermione just smiled and crossed out some of his mistakes when he told her he had to go, not noticing when he looked over at her briefly on his way out when he got to the portrait, and Ginny came to sit next to her. Hermione looked at her. "Are you doing homework? Is that someone else's, Hermione I told you not to do anyone else's homework! You might overwork yourself."

"Ginny, I am just looking it over for Harry, not doing it for him. Now, is there something you needed, other than to question me about doing other people's homework?" Hermione asked, making sure to smile so Ginny knew that she was just joking with her. Ginny however didn't smile back, looking at Hermione sadly. Hermione swallowed, suddenly worried. "What? What's happened?"

"Have you seen the Daily Prophet today?" Ginny asked, and Hermione shook her head slowly. Ginny looked away from her, over to Ron, before back at Hermione. "Hermione, Cassandra Hallows died last Saturday," Ginny said slowly, and Hermione tensed, her jaw falling slightly. "Charissa did a press conference on it yesterday. The funeral is on Saturday."

"She didn't tell me. She didn't even owl," Hermione said, her eyebrows furrowing and a look of confusion on her face. "Why didn't she owl me?"

"Look, Hermione, I know you don't want to hear this, especially seen as she is your cousin, but she is a bitch. She only cares about herself, she only thinks about what she can get out of something and she treats everyone like they are dirt. Sure she is polite, but it's all a farce. She wouldn't talk to any of us properly when she was here from Beauxbatons. Do you really find it that surprising that she didn't tell you?" Ginny told her, and Hermione frowned, looking at Harry's homework.

"Hermione, Charissa... she's Slytherin. Cold as ice and ready to take anyone who gets in her way down. You know this," Ginny insisted, and her friend shook her head, looking at her.

"No. It's an act. She isn't that cold, Ginny. You just don't know her," Hermione stated, and Ginny sighed. Hermione didn't see what Ginny saw. Ginny knew people like Charissa. So rich that they thought it made them better than everyone else, and acted like they were even more superior than everyone around them, like they had more authority.

"Okay, okay... so, when is your next antenatal appointment?" Ginny whispered, keeping her voice low. Hermione sighed, replying 'Saturday'. Ginny smiled. "Are Ron and Harry coming?" she asked, and a guilty look passed Hermione's face. Ginny groaned. "You haven't told them!"

"I've told Ron... but Harry is so busy, and I never get the chance to talk to him alone," Hermione shrugged, as she finally finished marking Harry's homework. "I'll tell him soon, I promise. But for now I think you and I should just go and see Louanna alone. If the boys come... it would attract attention, and we cannot let anyone find out. It would put us all in danger." Ginny exhaled sadly, looking at her friend, and who gave her a miserable look in return. They both sat in silence, before Ginny took a deep breath, and smiled.

"Oh well, at least we have a valid excuse to go shopping now," she beamed, and Hermione looked at her, before laughing.

* * *

Charissa sat opposite her headmistress Olympe Maxime, in the silky pale blue robes that were the Beauxbatons uniform, her hair pulled into a ponytail at the base of her neck, curls framing her face and her hat firmly slanted on her head. She sat ramrod straight, her shoulders back, and her face shadowed as she listened to Olympe talk, the large woman trying to be soft, yet also failing. "Miss Hallowz, it iz of ze greatest importance vous feel well eenuff to come to school. Eef vous feel it eez to much to deal wiz, I will have vous courzework sent to vous at ze Mansion, if vous wish."

"Madame Maxime, with all do respect, I believe it would be best if I return to my education. I have dealt with the matters that needed to be dealt with, and am ready to return. I can assure you that my emotions are fully under control, and will not affect me in any way," Charissa explained. Olympe shook her head, looking at one of her favourite pupils with something akin to pity in her eyes. Charissa pursed her lips at the sight of it, sitting straighter, if it was possible.

"Miss Hallowz, it would be understandeeble if vous feel unready to return. Vous haz just lost vous une grand-mere. No one expectz vous to return eemediatly. Vous are allowed to grieve for her. Vous loved her a many deal, and it eez understandeeble if vous are upset by her passing," Olympe assured her. Charissa nearly laughed at how wrong that statement was. She didn't feel anything. She just felt empty. Emotions were a weakness, and got in the way of duty. And her duty was to get her education, and continue to run the Empire. The Empire was all she had left, and even if it kelled her, she was going to make sure it ran as smoothly as it always had done.

"I am perfectly able to cope with anything, Madame Maxime. I have grieved, for a long time, and it is now unnecessary for me to continue grieving. It is best if I just continue with my life. There is nothing else for me to do but that," Charissa explained, her voice flat, and empty. She was telling the truth, as well. There was nothing else for her to do, no point for her to do anything else. Sadness and grief were luxuries now, that she would no longer allow herself to entertain, just as happiness and love. If in the end, she always lost something, what was the point of holding onto anything other than what she still had? Olympe studied her for a moment, before she gave her assent.

"Very weel. Vous may rejoin vous clazzmatez, Miss Hallowz," Olypme told her, and Charissa gave a curt 'Merci' nodding her head once, before she stood and walked from the office of the Beauxbaton Headmistress, pride and solidarity in her every step. Olympe shook her head sadly, sadness for her student filling her. The girl had lost so much, she was now immune to it. Such immunity, was a terrible thing to have, and could cause the most pain, more than even death and loss. The numbness that she knew Charissa could feel was only supposed to last a short while, yet in Charissa it just seemed to have let it dominate her, and Charissa couldn't care at all that she had let it.

Charissa had just given up fighting to be happy, fighting to feel, and just stopped. Stopped feeling at all.


	11. The Unknowable Room Part 1

**AN: Please Read and Review. **

* * *

**The Mudblood's Daughter and the Vanishing Cabinet**

While Harry was trying to get a brainwave on how to get the memory from Slughorn that Dumbledore needed, Hermione was trying to figure out how to tell Harry she was pregnant and hiding her bump. Her bump was definitly there now she had hit twelve weeks, she had put on six pounds and she was round. Forty-two inches around her waist. Size ten-twelve.

She was watching Harry as he read through the Prince's Potion Book, a scowl on her face. "You won't find anything in there," Hermione snapped firmly, late that Sunday evening. Harry groaned running a hand through his hair.

"Don't start, Hermione," Harry nearly pleaded, "If it wasn't for the Prince, Ron wouldn't be sitting here now."

Ron looked at him, with a 'Don't-bring-me-into-this' look, and Hermione tossed her hair over her shoulder, her nose in the air. "He would have if you had just listened to Snape in our first year," Hermione stated, dismissively. He ignored her, instead folding over a page in the textbook, trying not to get her to notice. Hermione shook her head, and moved a little closer to the fire in the common room. The only others up were other sixth years, all the others having gone to bed earlier. The date of the Apparation test had been announced and resulted in a slight uproar of excitement for the sixth years.

Hermione and Ron, because their birthdays had been before the first test date, got the opportunity to go for extra practice sessions in Hogsmeade. They would be heavil supervised. Ron had panicked, having still not apparated yet and fearing he wouldn't be ready for the test. Hermione was more confident, as even pregnant, she had managed to do it twice, and was rather proud of it. Harry wouldn't be seventeen for another four months, and couldn't take the test whether he was ready or not.

The bushy haired pregnant member of the Golden Trio pulled her hair up into a loose bun at the base of her neck, sighing, and rubbed her neck, trying to ease the tension and heat that had started to coil there. Ron frowned. "You okay, Mione?" he asked, and Hermione gave him a tense smile, nodding and wincing. "Come here," he said, patting the spot on the floor next to him, as his essay was in front of him. Hermione stood and stepped over to beside him, lowering herself down gracefully.

Ron brushed her hair aside, and used his large hand to knead the not at her neck. Hermione smiled tiredly, before looking at Harry, who was still scouring through the Half-Blood Prince's potion book, in search of a potion or a spell that could help him. She shook her head. "Harry, you are doign that completely wrong. If Dumbledore say only you can get the memory, than only you can. It must mean you can persuade Slughorn where other people can't. It's not a question of slipping him a potion, anyone could do that -"

"How d'you spell 'belligerent'?" Ron suddenly asked, shaking his quill with his free hand, a frown on his freckled features. Hermione and Harry looked at him. Harry's eyebrows shot up when he saw Ron's motions on Hermione's neck. "It can't be B-U-M-"

"No, it most definitly isn't," Hermione said, pulling Ron's essay to her, and looking at it. "Merlin, Ron. 'Augury' isn't spelt O-R-G either. What kind have Quill have you been using?" When Ron replied it was one of Fred and George's spell-checking ones, and that the charm must be wearing off, Hermione groaned and shook her head in exasperation. "Yes, it must because we were asked how we'd deal with Dementors, not 'Dugbogs', and I don't remember you changing your name to 'Roonil Wazlib' either."

The look on Ron's face would have been hilareous, if Hermione's hormones were not going haywire, and she wasn't feeling mad at Fred and George for messing with their brothers education. As he panicked, he moved his hand from her neck, running them over his face and moaning loudly. Hermione scowled as the tension returned to her shoulders and neck.

"It's okay, I can fix it," she said, pulling the essay towards her and taking her wand from her right foot sock. Ron fell back into couch, rubbing his eyes, before he returned to massaging her neck.

"I love you, Hermione," he said wearily, really tired, and Hermione turned pink, but laughed, shaking her head and warning him not to let Lavender hear him saying that. "I wont," Ron said, before a look of hopefulness filled his blue eyes. "Or maybe I will... then she'll ditch me..."

Harry, who was still slightly confused with why exactly Ron was massaging Hermione's shoulders, furrowed his brow over his glasses. "Why don't you just dump her if you want to finish it?" he asked, and both Hermione and Ron looked at him with equally amused, and horrified expression.

"You have never chucked anyone, have you?" Ron asked, and Harry frowned. "You and Cho just..." he trailed off, letting Harry pick up with 'sort of fell apart'. Hermione looked between the boys, before rolling her eyes. Really, sometimes they were just idiots when it came to relationships. Ron looked gloomy. "Wish that would happen to me and Lavander."

He looked over Hermione's shoulder, having moved behind her so she was sittin between the 'V' of his lanky legs, and rubbing her shoulders while she tapped all his mistakes with the tip of her wand silently, so they corrected themselves. "But the more I hint I want out, the tighter she holds on. It's like going out with the Giant Squid, for Merlin's sake. Even Pansy bloody Parkinson would be less clingy that her, and you have seen the way that girl fawns over Malfoy."

"To be fair to Lavander, at least she is persistant. I swear that Pansy dates a different Slytherin every week. Last week I caught her with Theodore Nott behind a tapestry. It's honestly ridiculous," Hermione said, and Ron grinned, giving her shoulder a playful squeeze, and then apologizing. "Ow, Ron, be careful. My skin is really sensitive lately."

"Sorry, Mione," he said, and Hermione nodded, while Harry looked at them suspiciously. Niether of them noticed.

"Okay, seriously, what the hell is going on with you two?" he asked bluntly, and they both looked at him in surprise. "You two have been weirdly close lately, and I want to know why. Ron used to laugh when you tripped, now he's treating you like glass. What is going on, what haven't you told me?" he asked. Hermione looked at Ron, who looked at her, and then looked at Harry again, a slightly scared look on her face.

"Harry... it's nothing... I swear..." Hermione started, only for Ron to shake his head and say 'Just tell him, Hermione'. Hermione bit her lip, staring at him over her shoulder, before she sighed, and nodded. "Okay... Harry... please don't get mad," Hermione pleaded, and the worry that Harry had been feeling suddenly tenfolded, his eyes widening.

"Why would I get mad? Hermione, what is going on?" he persisted, and Hermione felt tear starting to pool in her eyes, and run down her cheeks. Ron frowned, and squeezed her shoulder, trying to offer her some support. Harry began to feel scared at the sadness that had overcome her. "Hermione, whatever it is, you can tell me. I'm always going to be here for you, you are one of my best friends."

Hermione sniffed, before sobbing and covering her face with her hands. Harry looked on helplessly, as Ron squeezed her shoulder. At her utter inability to talk, Ron looked at Harry. "She's pregnant, Mate," Ron stated. Harry's mind went blank, not fully registering what he had said. His jaw dropped and he stared at them in shock. "Harry? Mate, are you okay?"

It all suddenly fit. Why she was so late coming in after Slughorn's party. How she hadn't wanted to talk about it. How much weight she had put on and how emotional she had been. How Ginny seemed to have become her best friend and refused to let anyone near her. How they had disappeared on Saturday and not told anyone where they had gone, how Ron treated her like she was glass, and was being so nice to her. Hermione swallowed the lump his her throat, sniffing when she saw the realization on his features. She wiped her eyes, pleading with him to say something, anything.

"Do... do you need anything?" he asked, uncertainly, his voice shakey and Hermione gave a broken laugh and flung herself at him, hugging him tightly. Harry hugged her back, looking at Ron with wide eyes, and mouthing 'What do we do?', to which Ron shrugged. When Hermione pulled away, she had a weary, yet delighted smile on her face. "So... er... do you want us to do anything for you? Because we can, we will be there for you as much as we possibly can."

"Thank you, Harry, but honestly... I'm dealing And we have more important things to worry about. Like me fixing Ron's essay," she said, and Ron cheered, as she sat down and continued to change any misspelt words on his essay. Harry looked at Ron in confusion, and Ron once again shrugged his shoulders, letting his head fall back onto the cushion of the couch and closing his eyes. Harry realized that the discussion was now closed, and picked up his Potion Book and continued to look through it. Twenty minutes later, Hermione handed Ron back his essay. "There."

"Thanks, Mione, you're a life-saver," Ron said, and Hermione just shook her head, laughing to herself. "Can borrow your Quill for the conclusion?" he asked, and she nodded, handing it to him. Harry, who had found it difficult to concentrate after Hermione's revelation and having found nothing useful in the book, looked around. The Golden Trio were the only ones left in the Common Room, Seamus having just gone to bed cursing Snape and his 'stupid bloody essay'. The only sound was the crackling of the fire and Ron scratching out a paragraph using Hermione's quill. Hermione's had, now that they were alone, pulled up her jumper and leaned back against the couch, having moved between Harry and Ron. She had a tender look on her face as she put her hands on her obvious bump, looking like she had swallowed a grapefruit whole.

Harry had just closed the Half-Blood prince's book, yawning widely, and staring at Hermione's bump, when their was an ear-splitting _Crack_. Hermione shrieked, and covered her stomach protectively; Ron spilled ink all over his essay as he jumped, and put an arm around Hermione, and Harry said 'Kreacher!'. Hermione breathed heavily, as the House-Elf bowed low and addressed his own gnarled toes. "Master said he wanted regular reports on what the Malfoy boy is doing so Kreacher has come to give-"

Crack. Dobby appeared beside Kreacher, his tea-cosy has slanted and a look of eagerness on his face. Hermione pursed her lips, as she looked at Harry out the corner of her eye. "Dobby has been helping too, Harry Potter! And Kreacher ought to tell Dobby when he is coming to see harry Potter so they can make their reports together!" Dobby squeaked, glaring at Kreacher, who glowered back resentfully.

"What is this?" Hermione demanded, her arms still around her stomach in shock at there sudden appearances, yet righteous fury having started to brew in her. Her anger only grew at Harry's hesitance to answer her, and she hit him on the arm hard, causing him to yelp. "What is going on, Harry!"

"Well... they've been following Malfoy for me," Harry replied, and Hermione gaped, as the two elves nodded, Kreacher saying 'Night and Day', and Dobby proudly stating he hadn't slept for a week. Harry winced at the look of indignant and fury on his pregnant friends face. Hermione's look grew even worse, when Dobby swayed on his feet.

"You haven't slept, Dobby? But surely, you didn't tell him not to -" she looked at him, her eyes wide, and Harry had to admit, it hurt a little that she thought he would do that just to get information on Malfoy.

"No, of course I didn't," Harry protested quickly, and Hermione, who had tensed, visibly relaxed, a look of thankfulness on her face. "Dobby, you can sleep, all right? But has either of you found out anything?" he asked, and Hermione had to admit, she was both curious and worried about what they might have found out. Draco was the father of her baby, and she would be damned if Harry ever found out. He was so sure that Draco was up to something. When Kreacher went on about how noble he was, Hermione rolled her eyes, and rubbed her face, before pulling her jumper down. She started, when Dobby suddenly lunged for the fire, and Harry shifted to catch him.

Hermione watched with wide, brown eyes as Dobby thanked him, before looking at Ron. He just shook his head, before looking at his ruined essay, mournful. She smiled at him. "I can fix it, don't worry," she said, and Ron gave her a thankful look. However both turned when Harry asked Dobby if Malfoy had been anywhere he shouldn't have been.

"Harry Potter, sir," Dobby squeaked, his great orb-like eyes shining in the firelight, 2the Malfoy by is breaking no rules that Dobby can discover, but he is still keen to avoid detection. He has been making regular visits to the seventh floor with a variety of other students, who keep watch for him when he enters -"

Hermione gasped, looking at Harry and mouth 'The Room of Requirement', which Harry shouted out, before smacking himself with _Advanced Potion-Making_. "That's where he's been sneaking off to! That's where he's doing... whatever he's doing! And I bet that why he has been disappearing off the map - come to think of it, I've never seen the Room of Requirement on there!" Harry insisted, and Hermione hook her head, as ron replied that they might not have known about it.

"I think it'll be part of the magic of the Room. If you need it to be unplottable, it will be," she shrugged. She barely listened to the what Harry said next, yet had to roll her eyes at his cockiness that Harry would be able to get into the Room of Requirement when the House Elves couldn't. "I don't think you will, Harry. Malfoy knew why we were using the Room, didn't he, because that bloody idiot Marietta had told him. He needed the room to become the DA Headquarters, so it did. But you don't know what the Room becomes when Malfoy goes in thee, so you don't know what to ask it to transform into."

She glared at Harry when he dismissed her statement, wanting to smack him with that bloody text-book he treated like the Bible. When he complimented Dobby on his efforts, and not Kreacher, she scowled at him, before kindly trying to make Kreacher feel good, only to have the House-Elf pretend not to hear her and disrespect her. She felt tears prick her eyes, and quickly wiped them, damning her emotions for betraying her. Harry ordered the two House-Elves away, and looked at them joyfully when they had gone.

Hermione had to admit she was worried for Draco, not that she would say it out loud, at Harry's happiness. Instead, she just took Ron's essay from him, and began to use her wand to siphon the ink off the parchment. "Okay, I get that you want to know Harry. But what about this 'variety of student's' he has on lookout? How many people could be in on it, I mean, you wouldn't think he'd trust lots of them to know what he is up to..."

She listened, as Harry began to think his thoughts out-loud, listening to his process, his realizations before he suddenly jumped up, pacing in front of the fire, talking about how he must be making Crabbe and Goyle take Polyjuice Potion, and how they were stupid enough to do what Draco told them even if they didn't know what he was up to. How he was making them turn into girls. Hermione gasped, her hand going to her mouth. "Do you mean to say that that little girl whose scales I repaired -"

His loud exclamation of 'Yeah, of course' caused her to wince, and look over to the stairs to make sure no one was coming. She closed her eyes, to ward off the headache she was getting as the two boys laughed about how Malfoy had them turning into girls, but she had to put her foot down, when Harry mentioned the Dark Mark. She hadn't seen if he had had a Dark Mark, because he had kept his shirt on, even if it was undone the entire time they were together.

"A Dark Mark we don't know exists," she stated sceptically, rolling up and handing Ron's essay back to him before any more harm could befall it. Harry's cockiness seemed to know no bounds that evening, and she just shook her head at him, holding out her hand. "Help me up," she said, and Harry groaned, before helping her to her feet. She put her hand on the base of her back, uncomfortably. "Harry, before you get all excited, I still don't think you'll be able to get into the Room of Requirement without knowing what's there first. And I don't think you should forget that you're supposed to be concentrating on getting that memory from Slughorn. Goodnight.2

She gave them a final look, designed to make them feel guilty, before turning and walking from them, up the stairs to the girls dormitories. Harry looked at Ron, when the door had closed to the girl's dormitories, and asked him what he thought. "I think she's going to be hell as a mother," Ron stated, and Harry frowned. "Wish I could Disapparate like a House-Elf."


	12. The Unknowable Room Part 2

**AN: Please, please review :( I know you all love the story, but I'm running really low on motivation. My Granddad is in hospital, and we don't think he is going to make it, and I have to start revision for my exams soon, so I may not be updating as regular as I have been lately.**

* * *

**The Mudblood's Daughter and the Vanishing Cabinet**

Hermione spent the next few days irritated, uncomfortable, and breathless. Her shirt was too tight over her bump, she had pain whenever she moved to quickly, something she had found out to be 'round ligament pain' and she felt like she was in a sauna all the time. She was supposed to feel good, her nausea had gone, and she had all this energy that she had no idea what to do with, but she was just uncomfortable. However, the Apparation lessons in Hogsmeade, the following Weekend did put her in a good mood, or as good as possible with her foul temper.

After giving Harry a sharp word, her, Ron and the other sixth years who had birthdays within the fortnight before their Apparition Test left the castle for Hogsmeade. Hermione had to admit, it was a lovely day. Clear morning skies, a warm breeze floating over as the first breaths of spring blessed the Castle ad it's surroundings with their presence. The sun shone gallantly, looking proud as it beamed down on them. Hermione smiled slightly. It was nice not to have to wear gloves and a hat and a scarf now. However she was still wearing large jumpers, to hide the lovely, round bump she had now. Thirteen weeks pregnant, nearing her fourteenth, and she was round.

None of her old clothes fit her, and she had had to borrow Ron's jumper to hide her bump. She had put on eight pounds over the last thirteen weeks. Because she was so short, as well, it was even more obvious, and harder to hide it because of that. If she thought about it in months, she was three and a half months gone. And it showed. he had gotten permission from Professor King to go to Gladrags and get some better fitting clothes that would hide her bump.

"Is that Tonks?" Ron asked, hitting her on the arm, and Hermione went 'hmm?' looking in the direction he was pointing. Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, making out the pale, thin form of Tonks, her hair a mousy-brown colour. "Is she pregnant?" Ron asked, a frown on his lips, and Hermione's eyebrows shot up, as she stared down Tonks retreating form, and noticed that she was in fact pregnant, around twenty-five weeks by the look of her. "Who's do you think it is?"

"Honestly, Ronald, it is none of our business! Tonks is a grown woman, and if she is pregnant, she is pregnant, we have no right to butt our noses into it," Hermione admonished him, and Ron put his hands up, before coughing something about 'hormonal' and 'pregnant'. Hermione's lips pursed and her eyes looked fiery. "What was that, Ronald?" she said through grit teeth, and Ron said 'Nothing' quickly, slightly scared of her at that moment in time. Hermione huffed and crossed her arms, before dropping them to her side and putting her hands on her hips, as they waited for Twycross to give them instructions on what they would be doing for the morning.

They were given instructions to form lines, and each had to Apparate ten feet, and then repeat it, until they were on the other side of the small village. Then, they had to repeat it back to the starting point. Hermione managed it three times, and Ron finally moved, overshooting the mark but managing to apparate. He cheered and whooped, running over to Hermione and hugging her tightly, before cheering again. Hermione laughed, shrieking at him to 'Put her down!'.

That was the initial excitement of the day, however, for after the two had been given early exit from the lesson to go to Gladrags, Ron moped for the next half an hour as Hermione got her measurements taken, and instructed the shop owner that she wanted clothes to HIDE her bump, not show it off.

* * *

Narca-Jane Lupin was pacing the Burrow kitchen, her three year old daughter in her fathers arms, blinking every now and then as she watched her pace. Her patience had run out, completely. She wanted her mother back, and she wanted her now. Scorpius shook his head, from where he sat at the dining room table with Rose. "This is what you call a mental breakdown," Scorpius muttered to the nine year old girl, who giggled and looked at him with large blue eyes.

"Scorpius, I am not having a mental breakdown! Do you not want to know where Mom is at all?" Narca-Jane asked, almost hysterically, and Scorpius rolled his eyes. He was grown up now. He was going to Hogwarts next year, and he was going to be the best Gryffindor ever. And then Rose was going to come, and they would be boyfriend and girlfriend, like Cleo and Sirius. He knew his mother was going to come back, so he didn't get why Narca-Jane was freaking out. Narca-Jane looked at him, before shrieking and grasping her hair, pulling at it. The straight locks of silvery blond hair shimmered in the candlelight.

"Paws, you need to calm down. All the stress isn't good for the baby," Teddy warned her, and the five months pregnant woman turned on him, her eye twitching, and her lips bared in a snarl. Nympha's eyes widened, and her hair turned jet black, as she buried her face into her Daddy's Weird Sisters t-shirt. Teddy rose and eyebrow at Narca-Jane, not at all scared of her. "Paws, Aunt Hermione is perfectly capable of looking after herself, and you can bet that she is. Wherever she is, she'll be safe, trust me."

"But how do you know?" Narca-Jane sighed, deflating as all emotion drained from her, leaving her exhausted as she flopped into a spare chair at the table. Teddy trod over to her, and put his hand on her shoulder, giving her the same charming grin that used to make every girl in their year love him.

"Because. That woman is one of the smartest women I know, and she can handle anything. I promise that you will see her again. She is going to come back," he told her. Narca-Jane looked unsure for a moment, but gave in to his charms, and nodded. Teddy grinned, and kissed her on the forehead, before handing Nympha to her. "See you dorks later, I have to go to work."

* * *

Hermione was ready to just sleep, as she trudged through an empty corridor, dragging her feet. The rest of the day, after lunch, had worn her out, and she just wanted to go to bed now. But she knew, that if she went back to the Gryffindor Common Room, Ginny would be there, wanting to talk about her latest fight with Dean, or about the baby, and Ron would want her to help with his homework andHarry would get on a bout Malfoy again and she was just FED UP of talking about Malfoy, and the baby and she just needed to get lost for a little bit.

She suddenly stopped walking, dead in the centre of the corridor, and exhaled heavily. She'd been running on endorphins, and her hormones lately. So much, that she didn't even realize just how run-down she had gotten. Her grandparents, the only ones she had left, were dead. She was pregnant, and couldn't even tell her parents. Her best friend was determined to destroy the father of her baby, and she was sure, against her own wishes, that Harry was right. Her gut told her that Draco was up to something, and she was only protecting him because she was guilty. Guilty for erasing his memory. Guilty for hiding the fact that she was was overwhelmed, and worst of all, she was scared. Actually, she was terrified.

It suddenly felt as if her throat was constricted. She couldn't breath, she felt trapped. She needed to move, get air, got out of that blasted corridor! She dropped her satchel and ran, a hand on her stomach. She needed to move. She needed out. Her eyes flit over the walls, which felt as if they were getting closer, narrower. She ran to a door, and tried to open it, only for it to not budge. Her breaths coming in pants she ran to the next door and the next.

"Please, please, please! Just open! Let me out!" she screamed, falling to the ground and shaking, heavy sobs tearing themselves from her throat. She couldn't do anything, she couldn't breath. She ran her hands over her face, and through her hair, and looked around her wildly, like a caged animal. She was choked, and she tore at her tie, pulling it from her throat, and throwing it to the floor. She shrugged off her robes, and her shoes, until she was just in her skirt and socks and massive jumper. She raced down the corridor, until she came to a flight of stairs, and the leaped up them as fast as her belly would allow, until she reached the top of the stairs, and came to a tower.

She froze. She hadn't even realised whet floor she had been on, still didn't. The tower was basically five columns in a circle, with a roof over it, and a rail connecting each column. Air breezed between them, almost melodic, and Hermione closed her eyes, her entire form shuddering. It called to her, like a moth to the flame, and Hermione found herself getting closer to the edge. She stared out into the dark night sky, and wished, for a moment, she was an owl. So that she could fly away into the clouds, and never come back. So she could soar among the stars, and be free.

Because the world was tying her down, holding her down. And she just couldn't breathe. Before she realised it, she had climbed over the railing, and was sitting on it, her grip tight on the metal, staring up at the sky. Her feet hung above the small ledge on the other side. Idly, she wondered when the dark had begun to look so inviting, so peaceful. Her thoughts finally stopped flying around her head, as she focused on the dark depths of the space around the tower, the almost never-ending fall to the ground below. How long would it take for her to hit the bottom? Was there even a bottom there?

She slipped off the rail onto the ledge, and leaned forward, keeping her grip on the rail. She closed her eyes, and smiled, taking in a deep breath, as air finally reached her lungs. Would her parents miss her, if she let go? Would they care at all, that they had lost their only child? Would Charissa? Would Ginny be upset that she was gone, or the baby? Would Harry be relieved that she was no longer there, nagging him to do things he didn't want to? Would Ron finally realize how he felt, only for it to be too late?

"What the bloody hell are you doing, Granger!" a sharp, furious voice suddenly cut through her thoughts, and Hermione's eyes shot open, her grip failing as she spun in shock. A hand grabbed the collar of her jumper, stopping her falling, and arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her over the railing with a grunt so the both fell backwards. "Have you gone absolutely mad, you stupid jumped up know-it-all Gryffindor!" Draco Malfoy demanded, and Hermione stared down at him, before quickly clambering off him, a look of terror on her face. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I... What... I..." her eyes went to the railing, widening as horror filled herself. She had... she thought about... A feeling familiar to when she was petrified filled her and she clasped her arms around her stomach. "Oh Merlin..." she cried, and Draco looked at her like she absolutely mental. "I'm sorry... I'm so, so sorry," she murmered, rocking. Fear of herself suddenly sparked within her and she went silent, in shock of her own actions. She had risked it all... she had nearly let go of that rail... She had nearly died...

"Granger?" Draco's voice, snidely and smooth, caused her head to shoot up, in surprise. "What the bloody hell was that? Are you fucking insane?" he snarled. Hermione blinked at him, gaping slightly from where she sat on the floor, before she stood and ran from him, down the stairs from the tower. Draco just watched her go confused.

Stupid Mudblood's. They were insane. The lot of them.


	13. Sectumsempra Part 1

**AN: Please, please review :( I know you all love the story, but I'm running really low on motivation. My Granddad has just died so I may not be updating as regular as I have been lately.**

* * *

**The Mudblood's Daughter and the Vanishing Cabinet**

If Ron had ever been worried about Hermione before, he definitely was now. She was sitting quietly, not even nagging him to study, her face pale and drawn. He didn't understand why. She was eighteen weeks pregnant. She wasn't even throwing up anymore, and it was getting warmer and sunnier. He didn't understand why she seemed so upset, but he was worried.

Hermione didn't want to talk about it however, and instead focusing her energies on studying and the Apparation test. She had gotten her clothes from Gladrags, which she was thankful for because it was definitly noticable she was pregnant. She had put on fifteen pounds, and because of how short she was her stomach was lovely and round, like a volley ball or a dodge ball was in her stomach. Of course it wasn't so much as a soft ball, but a rock hard one, and shaped slightly like an oval.

"Mione? Are you okay?" he asked, and Hermione looked at him, slightly surprised. She hadn't been expecting him to notice her mood. Ron never seemed to notice anything really, other than food. "It's just, you've been weird for the last month, and I dunno, it's sort of bugging me now. So what's wrong?" he questioned. Hermione looked slightly offended at his word choice, and even Harry was raising his eyebrows at Ron. It was an almost unwritten law that you were nice to a pregnant women. And you never told them that they were 'bugging you' no matter how moody and irritating they had been.

"Really, Ronald? Well I am so sorry to have been an inconvenience to you and your 'feelings'. I shall try so not to 'irritate' you any further," Hermione snarled sarcastically, her emotions once again on edge. Ron held his hands up and Harry opened his mouth to try and diffuse the sudden situation, only for Hermione to turn on him as well. "And why am I the only one being targeted, huh, Ronald? Harry is being just as cantankerous as I, yet you do not call him out on his mood. No, you just question your pregnant friend, who's emotions are so unstable she nearly threw herself off a tower!"

Ron's eyes widened, and Harry looked horrified at the admission she had just given in her small rant. Hermione covered her mouth with her ink stained hand, looking at the two boys fearfully. Harry spoke first. "You did what! Did you lose your mind? Hermione, why would you do that?" Harry demanded, and Hermione sniffed, before glaring at him.

"Oh, I don't know... Let's see... I'm pregnant and seventeen. Oh, and my parents are going to disown me when they find out. Our exams start soon and I have been far too busy to revise, my grandparents are both dead yet my cousin doesn't care enough to even send me an owl asking how I am! My best friend is in constant threat of death, and my other best friend isn't even bothered with revising for the N.E.W.T's and Ginny is driving me absolutely mental and for Merlin's sake would someone PLEASE get me some pickles!" Hermione told them. She took several deep breath, before wincing slightly and placing her hand on her stomach over her robes. Harry frowned, setting his book down and moving closer to her.

"Are you alright? It is the you-know what?" he asked, worried, and Hermione gave him a strained, slightly embarrassed smile as she replied that it was just indigestion. Harry looked relieved, while Ron looked slightly confused. He mouthed 'What's indigestion?' to Harry, and Harry mouthed back 'Gas'. Ron looked at Hermione surprised.

"You need to fart?" Ron said, a little too loudly and causing some of the other Gryffindor sixth years in the Common Room to look at them, each with different expressions. Hermione flushed brightly, the tips of her ears turning red and ducked her head, hiding behind her book. Ron winced, when Harry hit him in the arm, shaking his head and laughing to himself. "What? What did I say?" Ron asked, looking between his two best friends obliviously.

* * *

Charissa knew she was getting odd looks. She didn't respond to them in any way, nor the statements asking her about her feelings, not even from her friends. Eventually they would give up. She was sure of it. It was inevitable. The girls she knew where not at all known for their staying power. Quite the opposite really. Charissa scowled unpleasantly, when she realised just how she had found out that her friends were not as staying as she had thought. She scowled even more so, when she remembered just who had even less staying power and her grip tightened on her bag.

Aldric Daivat... she snarled quietly at just the thought of his name and quickly shook her head, wiping his face from her mind. He didn't deserve her thoughts. Not now, not ever. Instead her mind drifted to the family she had but wanted to forget, her Uncle Lucius and Aunt Narcissa. She had helped Narcissa, because the woman had been so miserable that she couldn't help but not. Getting Lucius out of Azkaban had not been easy, after all he was a convicted Death Eater, but she had done it anyway.

As she walked down the gloriously decorated corridors of Beauxbatons, she paused when she saw a mirror and her reflection in the mirror. Frowning, she took a step closer. Her jaw dropped slightly, as she stared at her reflection. Her eyes were dark, with shadows under them that couldn't be covered by make up. She was pale, more so than normal, and undeniably thinner than she should be. Her silken blue uniform seemed to hang off her form, and her hair was lifeless. The normal voluminous curls were lank, and straggly, despite being tied back. She looked dreadfully awful.

Stepping away from the mirror, she turned and continued on her way. How had she let herself become so ghastly? How had she not noticed how much her appearance had altered? Her emotions may have died, but apparently they still showed on her, revealing how exhausted and drawn she was. Tears unconsciously began to prick her eyes. She was so tired. So very, very tired. She just wanted to get some sleep. She hadn't slept since her grandmother died. She furrowed her eyebrows, and shook her head. Now was not the time to complain about how tired she was. She had revision to do.

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out one of the many potions she carried, the bright label reading _'Invigoration Potion - will make you feel more alive than ever, and sure to wake you up!_'. She uncorked it, and downed the contents, not wincing at the foul taste as she had drank the same potion repeatedly over the last few weeks. She never bothered to read the side effects. It was pointless. Charissa would keep drinking them anyway, despite what the side effects were. She needed them.

Her energy restored, she shivered as the potion cause her to suddenly perk up, and flipped her hair over her shoulder, running down the corridor. She had a letter to write to her cousin. She hadn't sent her one in ages, and it was about time she did.

"Miss Hallows," a voice called to her, just ahead of her and she blinked, seeing Albus Dumbledore standing in front of her, a familiar old smile on his aged face. She stared up at him, in surprise of his sudden appearance. His robes, as always were bright and colourful, depicting a silver forest on a orange canvas, with purple birds flying over it and a gold sun at the different stages of the day above a blue moon. His glasses balanced precariously on his crooked nose and his white hair was tied back, his beard braided down his front and tucked into his belt. She tucked her bangs behind her ears, and actualy smiled at him.

"Professor," she greeted, bowing her head slightly out of respect for the legendary wizard. When she looked back at him, she saw uneasiness stirring in those irritatingly twinkling blue eyes of his. Her stomach dropped. He was going to ask her to do something. She knew he was going to ask her to do something. People just couldn't leave her alone. They always wanted something. She sighed, her shoulders slumping as her slight bout of happiness at seeing him passed and was once more replaced by the empty sadness that constantly plagued her mind. "What is it you want, Albus?"

The use of his name, while seen as odd by others, was not uncommon for her. Because of his ties with her family (he was her second cousin four times removed, or something like that), she had known him most of her life. However, now she was older, it was the most irritating thing to admit, because it meant he was able to ask her favours if he needed her help with something related to his Golden Trio. Dumbledore managed to look at her both pleasantly and sheepishly.

"Miss Hallows, it seems that I am going to need you at Hogwarts in due course," he told her, and Charissa turned cold, stepping away from him with narrowed eyes. He wasn't at all phased by this, glowing down at her in that rather creepy way he could.

"I apologise, Professor Dumbledore, but that is not possible. I am enrolled here at Beauxbaxtons, and I have no intention of changing that any time soon," Charissa responded, stoic, holding her chin in the air defiantly. The look on Dumbledore's face was one of sympathy and silent understanding. Yet it left no room for her argument, as he shook his head.

"Then I must also apologise, Miss Hallows, for you have no control of this decision. It was in the wills of your grandmother and grandfather that upon both their deaths, you would be transferred through to Hogwarts for your safety," his words were like blows to her, but she refused to let it show. Even after their deaths, they were controlling her life... It was almost as if they were not gone. She pursed her lips, glaring at the floor before looking back at him with icy-blue irises.

"Do I not have a choice in the matter? It is my life, is it not? How is it fair that I be moved, especially right before my exams?" Charissa questioned, her eyebrows furrowed and fist clenching around her bag strap. The sympathy in Dumbledore's eyes was almost overwhelming, and she bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself snapping and shouting at him. This wasn't his fault... this wasn't his fault. The thought repeated through her mind, yet she could stop the anger that bubbled.

"I am sorry, child. However this must be done, for your own safety and the safety of those around you. The situation has already been discussed with Madame Maxime, she has granted permission for the move and the transport of your possessions to Hogwarts."

"I really have no choice? This is ridiculous and unfair. I do not want to be involved in your war, Albus. You can not do this to me," Charissa argued, her temper blazing. Dumbledore sighed, and placed his long, pony left hand on her shoulder. She fought the urge to shove it off, looking away from his eyes.

"Please do not think that I want to do this, Miss Hallows. I understand your reluctance to come to Hogwarts, but I have no choice but to take you," he told her softly, and Charissa inhaled slowly, her breaths shuddery. She swallowed her anger and looked at him. Dumbledore smiled at the resolve in her face, as she nodded, before Charissa felt that familiar, sickening pull of disapparation.

* * *

Hermione frowned to herself, as she though about what Harry had told her only five days before during Charms. Horcruxes truly sounded horrible. However, she was pleased that Ron and Lavender had finally broken up. It put a lot less stress on her. She ran a hand through her hair, and jumped when a sudden weight planted itself onto her shoulders. Looking up, she saw Ron grinning down at her, unabashedly. "Hello 'Mione," he said happily pulling her closer to him and squeezing her slightly.

She rose her eyebrows. "I'm not doing your homework, Ronald," she stated dryly, and Ron laughed, rolling his blue eyes. Hermione scowled at him. "What do you want, Ron? And can you please move your arm, I am already carrying enough weight around, I don't need yours added to it." She was being serious as well. Eighteen weeks pregnant was no easy feat. She felt massive. It may only have been an added weight of fifteen pounds, but she looked like she had ate a melon and her ankles felt like they were going to give way under her. It was a good thing she had already sat her Apparation Test that Monday, otherwise she would have been dead on her feet.

Ron moved his arm, a frown on his face. "Are you feeling alright? If it's too much you should lie down or something," he suggested, and Hermione bit her tongue to stop herself pointing out that they sitting down, and she couldn't lie on her back anyway. The two were in the Gryffindor Common Room. Lessons for the day had just finished and Hermione had wanted some peace so while everyone else had gone outside to enjoy the sunny April afternoon, she had secluded herself up in the Common Room to get some quiet. Although, it was nice to see that Ron cared enough to come find her.

"No, it's fine... I'm just in need of some quiet that's all. What was it you needed?" she asked, and Ron grinned again. Hermione nearly frowned at that grin. That grin normally meant she was going to have to do something she really didn't want to. Most likely his homework.

"Can't a guy come see his best friend without having some sort of task to ask?" he questioned, a slightly mocking pout on his lips as he continued to beam at her. hermione felt herself becoming more and more irritated, and glared at him. Ron exhaled dramatically, and then grinned at her. "Fine, fine. You know that potions essay that we have to have done by tomorrow?" he asked, rhetorically and Hermione gaped at him. She had finished it on Monday, when it had been given out. It was a five piece of parchment essay.

"Ronald! It's due tomorrow! How could you have not done it by now?" Hermione gasped in disbelief, and Ron chuckled nervously, shrugging. Hermione shook her head at him, in fake disappointment, yet she was so used to this she could only feel a little irritated at him. "Have you done any of it?"

"I did the introduction, but then I got confused..." he trailed off, a blush staining his freckled cheeks. Hermione bit back a grin at the adorable expression of embarrassment on his face. Impulsively, she ruffled his flaming hair, causing him to look at her with raised eyebrows. "So can I borrow the essay?" he requested, and Hermione nodded. Ron grinned broadly, and hugged her tightly, causing her to whimper as her bladder was crushed slightly and she had the incessant urge to pee again.

"Ronald... pregnant, remember?" she mumbled, and he let her go quickly, his face and ears bright red. He said 'sorry', and she waved it off, before holding her hand out to him. "Help me up. My essay is in my bag," she stated. He looked at her with a goofy expression, before he leaped to his feet and hoisted her off the couch they had been sat on.

"Merlin, 'Mione, you ain't half got heavy."

Hermione's eye twitched.


End file.
